


Outsider

by blissfullylostinarabbithole



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, mentions of death and murder, stalking in later parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfullylostinarabbithole/pseuds/blissfullylostinarabbithole
Summary: Your mother’s a journalist and goes away on business, leaving you alone for the first time. The trip changes both of your lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dean’s role in this fic is minor, and as far as I can tell, will only be in the first few parts. Also, when I wrote the mom’s friend, I thought of Melissa McCarthy???

“Please, don’t just eat junk food while I’m gone,” your mother pleaded as she double checked her bag. 

“I won’t,” you refrained from rolling your eyes. As annoying as she was being, you were over the moon at finally being allowed to stay home alone while your mother went away on business. 

“Remember, I can come back early if I need to.” 

“I’ll be fine, mom, Aunt Melissa is going to be checking in on me. You deserve some time for yourself; go shopping, go clubbing. Make bad decisions,” you teased. 

Your mother laughed and pulled you into a hug. “I hope those aren’t your plans for the next eight days. I think I’m gonna have to warn Dean so he can keep a closer eye on you when Melissa joins me.” 

“Of course not. I still have school, remember?” you tried to play off your embarrassment at the mention of your gorgeous neighbor. “And next weekend is Double XP on Zombie Space Nazis.” 

She put her hands on your shoulders, “Ok, no spending your whole weekend in front of the TV, either. Oh! And don’t spend all day out on the water. I don’t want to come home to a raisin.”

“Christ, what do you want me to do, just sit in a corner til you get back?” you gave her an over exaggerated whine. 

She rolled her eyes at you, and gave you one last hug when the cabbie knocked on the door. “Behave yourself and good luck on your exams!” 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Waking up was bittersweet. It was the last day you’d spend on your own until your mom was called away again. You really enjoyed your week of freedom, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss your mom, or minded Dean being so attentive. You missed Melissa, too. You washed up and changed into your swimsuit, prepared to catch a couple of waves before your first set of finals. 

Rushing downstairs, you were too excited to notice the figure sleeping on the couch when you passed it. In the kitchen, you reached for the refrigerator door when a shadow moved. “Goo-” 

Your piercing scream interrupted whoever spoke. You reached for the closest thing on the counter, the tea kettle, and flung it at the intruder, hitting him on his brow. He made a pained sound and stumbled back a bit. Feeling bravery you never knew you possessed, you stepped forward and swung, fist landing on his mouth. Quickly, you kicked him in his midsection, causing him to slam into the counter before dropping to the floor. You turned to make a run for the door to get to safety. To Dean. 

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you. You hardly had time to notice that the look in the second man’s eyes wasn’t one of malice before the back door was kicked in. Dean stormed in, in boxers and a tight white tee, hair disheveled, and gun in hand. “Let her go!” he demanded. 

“Woah woah, hey, it’s fine. It’s all a misunderstanding.” The man slowly released you and put his hands up. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, come here.” Dean’s tone softened when addressing you, but his eyes never left the man. You backed away, your own gaze flicking between the man in front of you and the man now getting up. When you reached Dean, he grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him. You gripped the back of his shirt tightly and inhaled his comforting scent. “Are you hurt?” 

“N-no.” 

“Y/N!” a familiar voice rang from the top of the stairs as the lights came on. 

“Mom?!” you peeked around Dean just in time to see your mother running down with a third man behind her. 

“Oh my God!” she froze when she saw the gun. “Dean, it’s ok, they’re with me.” 

“What?!” both you and Dean exclaimed. Dean lowered his gun, but only slightly. 

“They’re here to help me with- oh Tony!” she covered her mouth with her hands when she saw the first man’s bloodied face. 

“It’s ok,” the man was quick to answer. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” 

“Who are these guys?” Dean asked a bit bewildered, his gun now aimed at the floor. 

“What the hell’s going on?!” you demanded, still clutching Dean. 

Your mother sighed. “Y/N, Dean, this is Sam Wilson,” she gestured to the man who followed her down the stairs, then to the man who had grabbed you, “That’s Clint Barton. And this,” she held her hand out to the bloody faced man, who approached slowly and took it. “Is Tony Stark… my husband.”

* * *

 

  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward ‘family’ breakfast.

Dean’s eyes widened and your jaw dropped. He turned to you slightly. “Did she just say…?” he trailed off. You just nodded. 

“Sweetie,” your mom approached you, and pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We got in just a few hours ago and I didn’t want to wake you because I know you have finals today and…” she sighed. “Are you going to see your boyfriend?” she looked to the ocean so you knew what she meant. Like your father, the ocean had been your first love. It was a long running joke between them; one she carried on with you. 

You shook your head. “Too distracted,” was all you could utter. 

She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Ok, well then, how about we have a big breakfast then?” You nodded in agreement, even though you wanted to hide in your room until you had to leave for school. “Why don’t you get started while I get Tony cleaned up real quick. Dean? Would you like to join us?” 

“Oh, uh, no tha-” he stopped when your hand shot out to grab his. He saw the silent plea in your eyes, the same look his little brother gets, and he couldn’t say no. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Thanks.” 

“Ok,” she nodded and hugged you tighter. “I missed you so much.” She gave you one final squeeze before turning back to Tony. “I’ve got a first aid kit in the bathroom. Come on, and you’re gonna tell me what the hell happened down here.”

Clint snickered as they made their way up the stairs, ignoring the glare Tony sent him. Once they disappeared behind your mom’s bedroom door, Dean turned to leave. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Where are you going?” your voice betraying the uneasiness you still felt. 

He turned to you with a soft expression and ruffled your hair. “I gotta put this thing away,” he tilted his head to the now forgotten gun. “I need to brush my teeth, and I need to get some pants on. You, um,” he cleared his throat. “might wanna do the same.” He gestured to your bare legs, letting out a chuckle at your grimace. “Two minutes, tops,” he assured you. 

“Ok,” you said more confidently, and gave him a weak smile. He kissed the top of your head and left. You turned to see Clint watching your exchange, and behind him, Sam was rummaging in the fridge. “Excuse me,” you mumbled before running up the stairs. You pulled on some cotton pajama pants, ignoring the laughter coming from downstairs. You tied your hair up in a ponytail and made your way back down. 

Downstairs, Sam had already put some bacon and sausages to cook. You pulled the waffle iron out and plugged it in and were in the middle of pulling out ingredients from the pantry when you realized Sam was looking at you. 

“What?” you asked, suddenly self conscious. 

“Clint said you were the one to drop Tony,” a huge smile crept onto his face. 

You let out a snort. “Uh, yeah, I was,” you looked down at your sore, bruising knuckles. 

Sam let out a hearty laugh, “Oh man, the others are gonna love you.” 

“Tasha already does. She’s pissed I didn’t get any video.” Clint came in from outside, phone in hand. “So, who’s the guy?” he leaned against the counter where you were mixing up the waffle batter. 

“Dean,” the man himself answered, stepping into the kitchen. “I live next door. I uh,” he rubbed the  back of his neck. “I’m sorry I almost shot you, but I thought-” 

Clint put his hand up to stop him. “I get it. The kid’s safety comes first. We’re good.” The two men gave each other a nod. 

You couldn’t help watching him. He hadn’t taken any extra time to tame his bed head or put on shoes. He’d made sure to come back to you as soon as he could, and it made your heart swell. “So, the bloody guy… he ok?” 

The other two men laughed. “He’ll be fine. It’s just a busted brow, split lip, and bruised ego. Well done, though,” Clint turned to you and winked when he said the last part. 

“You did that?” Dean asked, smirking when you shyly nodded. “Atta girl,” he squeezed your shoulders in approval. 

“I’m gonna call you ‘Scrappy’,” Sam called from the stove. 

“I wouldn’t, unless you wanna be next,” Dean threatened playfully. “What d’ya want me to do? Eggs?” he asked you, and smiled when your eyes lit up. 

Dean makes the fluffiest, most delicious scrambled eggs you’ve ever tasted. “Yes!” you all but yelled. 

“You got it, kiddo.” He left your side to do his task, but your eyes followed him. 

In your peripheral, you noticed Clint was watching you again. So you turned your attention back to making waffles, making a mental note to not look at Dean. You can’t have the Avengers know you’re pathetically in love with your much older neighbor. Your head snapped up. Shit! You were so caught up in the drama that you failed to realize the people in your house were Avengers. 

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked. 

“I-.” you didn’t know what to say. Luckily, there was a knock at the door. “Thought I heard something. Any more surprises?” you asked a bit defensively. 

“I’ll get it,” Dean called warily. It was still really early. Too early for visitors. 

Clint considered your answer, but it didn’t look like he believed you. “Not from us. Not yet anyway.” 

You were about to ask what he meant by that, but you were interrupted by Melissa calling out to you from the door. “Y/N, sweetie, are you ok? I heard these idiots gave you quite the scare!” she glared at the men behind you before she hugged you. 

“I’m fine. Is… did Mom really get married?” you asked your mother’s best friend. 

She gave you an apologetic smile. “Yeah, I’m afraid she did. I know, I was shocked, too.” 

“We all were,” Clint piped up. 

“But, Tony, he’s a good guy. They seem really happy,” Melissa tried to comfort. 

“You know, when I told her ‘make bad decisions’, I didn’t mean this.” Everyone in the kitchen laughed. “So, why are you guys here? Him I get. You?” you asked Sam and Clint. 

“Well, this all happened so fast, we’re really here to help you,” Sam stated carefully. 

“Help me what? Cope?” you tried to convey curiosity in your tone to not sound rude. “I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you have like, more important things to deal with?” 

“You’re family now, kid, and there’s nothing more important than family,” Clint said kindly. 

“So, what are we doing? How can I help?” Melissa asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

“Breakfast,” said Dean, glad to get back to the eggs. “Maybe you can cut up some fruit?” he offered. 

“Oh yeah, that sounds good. You makin’ your famous eggs, Deano?” 

“You know it,” you could hear the pride in his voice. 

As Melissa was making another pot of coffee, your mom and Tony came back down. She couldn’t hold back her giggle at seeing Tony with a swollen lip and butterfly bandage below his eyebrow.  “You alright there, Tone?” 

He gave her a wry smile. Your mother stood by you while you finished making waffles. “So…” she whispered. “I guess I was worried about leaving you alone for nothing,” she sounded amused. 

“Looks like I didn’t worry enough,” you grumbled. 

She sighed, but held her tongue. It wouldn’t help anything to start an argument, especially now. “I love him,” she said firmly. “You will, too. Just give him a chance. Please.” She took the plates of waffles and set them on the table. 

Shortly after, everyone was sat around eating. You were picking at the food on your plate, only eating bits of egg now and again. Dean sat beside you and kept giving you concerned glances, while everyone else tried to fill the silence with small talk. 

“So Dean, how’d everything go here? Have any trouble with my little brawler?” your mother inquired. 

“Mom!” You gave her a ‘what the hell?’ look. 

“Of course not,” he said, giving your back a comforting rub. “Just went about her business as usual.” 

“She didn’t get too loud playing that Nazi Zombie game of hers?” she asked as you sunk lower into your chair. 

“You have Zombie Space Nazis?” Sam cut in. You nodded without looking at him. 

“No way,” Dean sent a proud grin your way. “She kicked so much ass over the weekend.” 

“Nice,” Sam said appreciatively. “Hey, you think I can play? We have it at the tower, but Barnes always hogs it.” 

You smiled a little. Everyone knew about James Barnes and everything that was done to him. It made sense he’d be obsessed with the game. “Sure. Everything’s in the living room. Watch out for a guy called Captain Commando, he’s a right dick.” 

“Y/N…” your mother warned. 

Clint snorted into his juice. “Oh, Steve’s gonna love the mouth on her.”

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sam take on the infamous James Barnes. Another bomb is dropped. Dean is a sweetheart.

Tony, Clint, and your mother were in the kitchen when you came home from school. You dropped your bag by the door and made a beeline for the couch, collapsing face down on it. Sam looked up from the game briefly to chuckle, “Bad day, Scrappy?” He patted the back of your head at your muffled groan.

You stood and grabbed the second controller by the tv. “I’m joining your game.”

“Oh, good. Think you can help me take down Barnes?” Sam asked. “He keeps cheating!” he shouted into the headset. “Yes, you are!”

“Sure, which one is he?”

“Sweetheart?” your mom joined you on the couch. “What happened? How were your finals?”

“I didn’t finish the first one,” you grumbled. “Second one was fine, I think.”

“Which didn’t you finish?”

“Math.”

“If you need help in math, I can tutor you,” Tony offered.

You grit your teeth, “I do fine in math. My mind was just elsewhere.”

Your mom sighed, “Y/N, I’m sorry about this morning, but this is something you’re going to have to accept.”

“I know that. I just didn’t think I’d only be given a few hours to come to terms with it,” you snapped. “Which one’s Barnes?” you changed the subject. Crestfallen, your mom rejoined Tony back in the kitchen.

“Winter Sergeant,” Sam replied, fixing the audio so Bucky would come through the speakers. The headset was placed between you so you could both speak into it. It didn’t take you long to find him.

_“The kid not taking it well?”_  Bucky’s voice sounded over gunfire.

“‘The kid’ can hear you. And she’s right behind you,” you taunted, pulling the trigger as his character turned around. There was a string of swears coming from the tv that you couldn’t hear over Sam’s cackling.

Clint decided to make some popcorn to watch you kill Bucky over and over again, laughing loud enough for the mic to pick up.

_“Is that Barton? That’s it, I’m getting backup. STEVE! Get your ass over here!”_

“Is he any good?” you asked Sam, who only laughed harder.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You returned home after your last day of school, eager to spend a couple of hours on the water. Your second and third set of finals had gone better than expected, so you wanted to clear your mind and relax the best way you knew how.

You went through the door and raced past everyone to the stairs.

“Woah! Hold on! How’d your exa-”

“Fine!” you called back, interrupting your mom. In your room, you tossed your backpack in your closet, and threw your clothes off, finding you couldn’t get into your swimsuit fast enough. Grabbing a towel, you ran back out and down the stairs, missing the uncomfortable looks everyone was sharing. You pulled your board out of the broom closet and tried to run out the door.

“WAIT!” your mom called.

You exaggeratedly sagged your body, letting out a whimper. “But… my beloved. He calls to me.”

“Right. About that…”

The guilt lacing her voice alarmed you. You faced her and saw that everyone was wearing similar expressions. “What now?” you asked, voice quaking.

“Well,” you mom nervously ran a hand through her hair. “As you know, Tony and I are married now, and we want to live together.”

“Aren’t we already?”

Clint gave you a sympathetic look, while Sam avoided your gaze completely.

“We’re moving in with Tony,” she took the bandaid method and just blurted it out. “in New York.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Nothin’,” Melissa walked in, failing to get you to come out of the water. It was nearly dark, and your mom was worried you’d get hurt. After you’d been told the news, you’d screamed and cried and ran out to the water, and hadn’t come back.

Your mom tried to call you in for lunch, but you ignored her. Knowing you were still upset, she decided to wait until before dinner to try again, but you’d still ignored her. Clint tried, then Sam, and even Tony gave it a shot, but your figure off in the horizon gave no indication of having heard anything. Your mom then called Melissa, hoping she could get through to you.

“I’ve really messed things up haven’t I?” your mom asked no one in particular. “I’ve never seen her so angry.”

“Hey come on, none of that.” Melissa pulled her into a hug. “She’s just scared. She’ll warm up to the idea. What kid wouldn’t want to live in a fancy tower with a bunch of super heroes, huh?”

The rumble of the Impala approaching outside caught everyone’s attention.

“Hey, why don’t you ask the neighbor to try?” Clint suggested. After watching you interact, he knew he’d have the best chance out of anyone to get you to come inside. “It’s worth a shot.”

They called Dean over and explained the situation, making him laugh humorlessly and shake his head in disbelief. “And you thought things were going to go smoothly?”

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that,” Tony warned.

“Why don’t you stay out of it?” Dean shot back angrily.

“Because that’s my kid out there!”

“Please, you’ve know her three days! And look how happy you’ve made her,” he sneered. Tony’s jaw clenched, but didn’t say more, knowing it was the truth. Dean let go of his own anger and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll make sure she gets something to eat, too. I’m pretty sure she’s not gonna want any part of this,” he gestured to the dinner table.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

All you’ve done is sit on your board, letting the soft waves sway you as you thought on all the good times you had. On everything you would leave behind. On Dean.

“Y/N!” his faint voice in the distance snapped you out of your thoughts. “It’s time to come in, kiddo!” he called.

You looked around, noticing how dark it was, and began making your way back. On the beach, he was waiting with your towel open. “Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He wrapped the towel around you and gave you a hug. “I just heard. I’m so sorry.” He held you tighter when you started to sniffle. “What do you say we get out of here for a bit, huh? Go for a ride, get some food?”

“M’not hungry,” you muttered.

“Well I am, and I think you’re not quite ready to go back in there,” he nodded toward your house.

“Ok. Let me change real quick.”

“Dress comfy; we’re just hanging in the car. I’ll rinse this off for you while I wait, alright?” He took your board and headed to your house. You saw the others watching just outside the door. Without another glance, you headed past them and changed into some pajamas before meeting Dean at his car.

You drove in silence, with the music playing low on the radio. It’d been about an hour before he pulled up to the best burger place in the state, stopping short of the drive through’s speaker.

“You really gonna make me eat alone?” he asked with a fake pout.

“I’m afraid I’ll be sick,” your voice cracked.

Dean nodded. “You know, after my mom died, my dad moved us around a lot. We never stayed long, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to leave. You grew up here, so I can only imagine how much worse it is for you.”

Dean didn’t like to talk about his mother, so you took the opportunity to ask something you’d been wondering about for a while. “Do you remember her?”

He sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Why? Don’t you remember your dad?”

You shook your head sadly. “I just remember the sound of his voice, and how he always smelled of sea water and surf wax.”

“That’s what you smell like, too.”

“Not for long,” you bitterly remarked.

He drove up the speaker, and ordered for the both of you. After paying at the window, he turned back to you. “I may not have had time to form attachments growing up, but I get it; you’re gonna miss the love of your life.”

You looked up at his beautiful green eyes as tears pooled in yours, knowing how true that statement was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You felt both better and worse after your night with Dean. You talked more while you ate, and then drove around listening to music, eventually singing along. As you pulled up to your street, you saw a light on through the window. You bade Dean goodnight and headed to your house, assuming it was your mother waiting up for you. But it was Tony who opened the door, in a bathrobe and a drink in hand.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a strained smile. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah.” You shoved past him, wanting to get away quickly.

“What’d you have?”

You sighed and faced him, realizing he wasn’t going let you go. “Burger.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “For nearly five hours?”

“Where’s my mom?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“It’s almost 2am; she’s asleep.”

“Exactly. So she’s not worried,” you reasoned, crossing your arms defensively. “Why are you even up?”

He downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. “I couldn’t sleep. Actually, I keep wondering about that game you and Wilson played. Mind showing me what that’s about?”

“Now?” You groaned internally. Was he really going to try bonding after trying to reprimand you for being out late?

He shrugged, walking toward the suspiciously empty living room. “You don’t look tired, and you’re on summer vacation.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’d say we shouldn’t in case we wake Mr. Barton, but he seems to have mysteriously disappeared.”

“Oh, that?” he waved you off. “He was complaining about his back, so he’s sharing with Wilson in the guest room. Now, come, sit.”

You turned the game on and explained the basics. After a couple of tests runs, which he did extremely well in, he wanted to try a real match.

“I know how much you love to swim, and how important it is you have access to water,” he began during the match. “I have a swimming pool. It’s enormous. You can have it to yourself whenever you want.”

You frowned at his gall thinking a pool a good substitute for an ocean. “Yeah, cuz that’s totally the same thing.”

“We have beaches in New York, you know,” he informed sarcastically. “Maybe not as accessible, but-”

You’d heard enough. He had walked his character in between yours and an enemy player, and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to shoot him. When he dropped and the screen said you’d been the one to kill him, Tony was appalled.

“What?” you feigned innocence. “Friendly fire’s on and you got in my way.”

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You say your goodbyes.

With your days at home numbered, and your friends already gone for the summer, you spent all your free time either on the water or with Dean. You even took your meals with him, as nearly every interaction with your mother began to lead to a fight. You finally won one, at least. She mentioned she would be putting the house up for sale, and you put your foot down, reminding her that she and your father intended the house to be yours when you grew up. You also mentioned it would be in her best interest to keep it as a safety net, due to Tony’s publicly documented bedroom habits. She and Tony became furious and insisted it was unnecessary, but conceded all the same saying it would be good to hang onto it as a vacation home until you were old enough to live on your own.

Dean thought it was hilarious when you told him. “You’re lucky she didn’t ground you!” he cackled.

“For what?” You smiled sadly, etching the sound of his laughter in your memory. “Having common sense, or for getting upset that she wanted to sell my house?” Dean’s laughter tapered off and he turned his gaze on you, making your heart grow heavy and your voice crack. “I’m already being taken from everything I love. What’s left to punish me with?”

Dean reached out to wipe the tear falling down your cheek. “It’ll go by quickly. Before you know it, you’ll be graduating and on a plane back here for good, you’ll see.”

“I hoped so,” you sniffed, trying to steady your voice.

“Or maybe you’ll end up liking New York and staying.” You made a face, and Dean started laughing again. “Or going somewhere else and falling in love with it! With Stark, you’ll be sure to see lots of awesome places.”

“I don’t know about that. They’re waiting until we’re in New York to go on their honeymoon. Mom asked me where I wanted to go, and I said I didn’t. It’s weird isn’t it?” you asked. The look on his face told you he wasn’t following. “I’ve become a third wheel in my own family.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You’d done all your packing at night while everyone slept, leaving only your swimsuits and a few changes of clothes out for your last few days. Now they went in a duffel, ready for their journey across the country in the morning. You lay in your bed for the last time and looked around your room, storage containers stacked all around, and reminded yourself it wasn’t goodbye forever. Regardless, you fell into an uneasy sleep, only to be woken by a soft knocking on your door.

“It’s time, kiddo,” Dean called from the other side.

You sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “It’s open.” He entered and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to say something. “Morning.”

“Hey,” he nervously drummed his fingers against his thigh. “I’m gonna start taking your stuff to the van.” He waited for your approval before picking up a container and heading downstairs.

You went to the bathroom to wash up and debated whether you should change out of your pjs. The flight would be long and you wanted to be comfortable, but you didn’t want to risk meeting anyone important in your sleepwear. Deciding to change, you fished your most comfortable outfit out of your luggage just as Tony walked in.

“Hey,” he nervously greeted. “Just taking your stuff to the car. Even though we can just get you new stuff…” he muttered under his breath. He picked up a container and studied the top layer of the contents inside.. “Why do you have so many copies of the same book and why are they all packed?”

You dropped your clothes on the bed in exasperation and pointed, “This one’s autographed, this one’s an anniversary edition, reading copy, backup copy, and a newer edition with a cool cover.”

“What, no first edition?” he sneered. “Ok, but why are five copies of the same book all coming?”

“Six,” you corrected, crossing your arms. “My retired copy’s there, too, and they’re coming because I want them to.”

Tony quickly recognized the challenging look in your eye and your defensive posture. Sensing he was about to stir up a hornet’s nest, he bit his lip, swallowing back words, and nodded. “Finish getting ready. We’re leaving as soon as all this is in the car.”

He carried the box outside, where your mom was arranging them in the back of the van. “Honey, did you know Y/N’s taking like, ten copies of this book?” he tilted the box for her to see.

She laughed softly. “I’m sure it’s only five or six.”

“Only?” Tony huffed.

She hugged him around the neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Yes, _‘only’_. It’s her favorite. Frankly, I’m surprised she doesn’t have more.”

“Oh.” A hurt look quickly flashed in his eyes. “She didn’t say that.”

“Give her time,” she reassured. “Ask her about it when she’s settled, or maybe get your own copy and give it a read.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Inside, you grabbed the bag with the things you would carry with you and headed to the back patio, wanting to get a last look at the beauty that brought you happiness and comfort throughout your life.

Sam carried your last box out, and returned to find Clint watching you from the doorway. He pointed at you, silently asking if he was going to call you in. Clint shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. Sam shrugged and joined you outside.

“Hey, Scrappy,” he grinned.

You sighed, not meeting his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Come on,” he pleaded. “We had some good times those first few days. I thought we were becoming friends.”

“You had three days to tell me this was coming, and you didn’t say a word. What kind of  _friend_  does that?” you asked coldly.

“I am sorry,” he patiently stated. “But it wasn’t my place to tell.”

“But it was your place to come here to help keep me in line, right?”

Clint knew the battle was only just beginning, so he was relieved when he heard the others approaching.

“Sweetheart? It’s time to go,” you mom called softly.

“Actually,” Dean spoke up. “could I have a minute?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“We need to get going,” Tony said at the same time.

“What, is your fancy, private jet gonna leave without you?” Dean asked sarcastically.

Tony opened his mouth to retort, but your mom placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Take your time.” She gave Tony a pointed look before leading him out. “We’ll all be waiting by the car.”

You followed Sam inside, waiting with Dean until the others left.

“Would you have told me? If you knew they were doing this?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t know.” He didn’t shrink away from the disappointed look you gave him. “They waited because of your exams. Don’t get me wrong, this is all kinds of messed up, but they made their choices and now they’re trying to handle it the best they can.”

“I guess…” You met his weak smile with one of your own. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Me too, Kiddo. It’s gonna be too quiet.” He looked around at the covered furniture and blank walls sadly.

“It’s just for a while, right? Like you said, I’ll be back before I know it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He looked out the window, still smiling. “He’ll be here, waiting.”

“Will you?” you blurted impulsively, embarrassment immediately overtaking you. “Uh, tell Sam I said goodbye?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him. Can I have your hand for a minute?” He took it, swiftly transferring his beaded skull bracelet from his wrist to yours. “Something to remember me by.”

“How strangely sentimental,” you tried to joke, unable to keep the tears from falling anymore.

“You tell anyone, I’ll deny it.” He chuckled, wiping your cheeks before pulling you in for a hug.

“It stays between us,” you promised, heart shattering when he pressed a kiss to your temple for the last time.

He walked you to the door, but stopped again before opening it. “Try to make the best of it, ok? I want you smiling next time I see you.”

Knowing it would be the easiest promise to keep, you nodded. “Thank you.” You reached up to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best person I know. Don’t ever forget it.”

He cleared his throat, choking back his own tears. “You ready?”

“No, but I don’t have a choice.”

Outside, everyone was already waiting in the car. No one said a word as you settled in the empty seat in the back, or when you pulled away from the curb, tears streaming as you watched Dean shrink in the distance.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

One by one, the staff included, they tried to engage you during the flight. A small part of you felt guilty for bringing down the mood knowing they wanted to be excited about starting your lives together as a family, but your head was still spinning over how quickly everything had happened.

When you landed, Clint offered a hand to help you off the plane, eyes zeroing in on the bracelet. He thumbed it, and you pulled your hand back protectively.

“Good evening Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark.” Clint saw you wince as the suit addressed your mother. “How was your flight?”

“Long,” Tony sighed. “Y/N, come here, please. This is Happy, my head of security. He’s the one who introduced me to your mom.”

“Thanks a lot,” you grumbled.

Happy looked slightly taken aback. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. L/N. I bet you’re going to be a joy for your security detail.”

“Security?” You looked to your mom for an explanation.

“Later, sweetie. Let’s just get back to the tower, alright? Melissa’s made your favorite for dinner.”

To everyone’s relief, you agreed and made it to the tower without issue. Melissa waited for you in the garage, and immediately began to fuss over your red, puffy eyes. She frowned when you didn’t respond, realizing you were still upset with her for concealing the wedding and the plan to move from you. Sam and Clint decided to wait for the next elevator, knowing it would be a long ride with the dark cloud surrounding you. Tony introduced you to FRIDAY and explained what her role in the tower was. When you reached the common floor, he led you straight to the kitchen, where the smells that usually made your mouth water only began to make your stomach turn. A blond in a gray shirt was sat at the table and looked up happily when you entered.

“Hey guys!” He too, noticed your eyes as he approached.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mom introduced. “Honey, meet Steve Rogers.”

“Hello, Y/N,” he smiled sympathetically. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’re going to do everything we can to make you feel at home.”

“I know what’ll make you feel better,” A redhead entered, smiling conspiratorially. “Why don’t you show us exactly how you took Tony down?”

“Really?” Steve gave her a disappointed look.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t laugh when you heard,” she sassed. “I’m Natasha.”

“And this,” Tony interrupted, gesturing to the man stalking toward you. “is James Barnes.”

The guy looked downright scary in photos, but it was nothing compared to what he looked like in the flesh. You fought the urge to take a step back, and stuck your hand out ready to introduce yourself. He came to a sudden stop, just within your personal space, and pressed something hard into your palm. You looked down in confusion and saw that in place of a hand, was a controller.

“Rematch. Now,” he growled, taking hold your free hand and leading you to the living room, game ready to go.

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s terrible at video games, and you try taking Dean’s advice.

“I’m gonna tell you now, I’ll know if you look at my half of the screen,” Bucky warned.

Your jaw dropped at his audacity. “You met me five seconds ago and you’re calling me a cheater?”

“No.” He gently pushed you onto the couch. “I’m sayin’ if you do, I’ll know. First and only time I let Wilson play, he kept lookin’ at my half.”

One on one, you and Bucky were pretty evenly matched. He was better, but only just. Tony had wanted to put a stop to it, eager to show you the room he’d had set up for you, but Steve told him Bucky had been waiting for your arrival since you ‘met’ on the battlefield and wasn’t likely to let you go anytime soon. Your mom was also reluctant to pull you away when she saw your surliness begin to ebb.

Bucky suggested playing a few matches to see how you do on the same team. By the time Dinner was ready, neither of you had moved from the couch.

Melissa drew the short straw and had to try to lure you to the dining room. “Guys, come on, we’re all waiting on you.”

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, eyes never leaving the screen.

Bucky didn’t look away, either. “If she doesn’t have to go, neither do I.”

Your eyes flicked to him as Melissa returned to the kitchen. “What’s your beef?”

He gave you a quick glance before turning his attention back to the he tv. “I don’t like being around them too much.” He had expected you to ask him to elaborate, and he eyed you again when you didn’t. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You scoffed, gesturing in the direction Melissa left. “Not in uncomfortable situations.”

The others had advised your mom to bring you for a visit first, and wait until the end of the summer to move to give you time to come to terms with everything. When she saw how excited Tony was to show you so many things, she didn’t listen. Now, as she eyed the empty seats at the table, she wished she had.

Tony had asked if you were tired, and offered to show you to your room, but you declined. Being used to a different time zone, it still felt relatively early for you. Neither of you saw the way his face fell when you accepted Bucky’s offer to take you later when you were ready. Your mom placed the leftovers in the fridge and pleaded with you to eat something before turning in.

Steve stayed behind to watch you play for a while. When you offered him your controller, he chuckled. “I shouldn’t. You saw how bad I was last time.”

The memory made you smile and you had to suppress your laughter. “Not from your end.”

Happy to see you in a better mood, he agreed. Eventually, it was just him playing, while you and Bucky watched and giggled whenever he got himself stuck in a corner or blown up by his own grenades. When he finally got his first kill, he stood and began to cheer only to look on in confusion as you and Bucky doubled over in unbridled laughter. He had killed a player on his own team.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Holy. Shit.” Not long after Steve went to bed, you and Bucky realized how late it was and decided to get some rest. You opened the door to your quarters and were astounded at the massive size of the room.

“Yeah. Stark wanted to make sure you had enough room for all your stuff.” Taking note of the storage boxes around the room, he added, “Either he overestimated, or he’s planning on making you fill it.”

“God, I just need a fridge and I’d never have to leave…” you mused. You opened your bag to fish out your phone charger, giving Bucky a glimpse at the contents inside.

“Who’s that?” he asked, gesturing to a picture frame.

“Dean,” you voice quavered. “He lived next door.”

Bucky nodded, then pointed at your wrist. “He give you that?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“He’s wearing it in the picture.”

You looked at it again and saw the bracelet was just barely visible. “That’s impressive.”

“Not really.” He ran his flesh hand through his hair. “Comes with the training. Anyway, you comin’ to breakfast later?”

“Uh…” You began to fumble with the items in your bag, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know.”

“You gotta eat.”

“I know, I just… I haven’t been able to keep much of anything down,” you admitted. “Just toast and the odd meal here and there if I’m craving it.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

After Bucky went to bed, you were hit by the silence of the room. You found a ten hour loop of ocean sounds to help you sleep, but gave up after waking for the third time. Leaving the track to play, you searched one of your containers for a book to occupy you. A few hours passed before you were interrupted by a knock on your door.

“Good morning,” Steve greeted with a charming smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah, fine.”

“Liar,” Bucky pushed past Steve, entering your room. “So, you joining everyone for breakfast?” The thought of food only made you queasy, so you shook your head. “Good, that means I don’t hafta go, either,” he smiled triumphantly at Steve.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated at his friend’s stubbornness. “I’m not bringing you your food anymore, Buck. You wanna eat, you go to the kitchen with the rest of us.”

“Fine! I’ll go get something later.” He looked back at you and winked. “At least bring the kid a plate. She hasn’t eaten at all since before they got here, and things are still weird with her and her ma.”

It was hard to keep a straight face when they both gave you sympathetic looks, so you pretended to look for something in your bag. Steve left, promising he’d be back shortly with food, and Bucky sat beside you, grinning. “You eat the toast, and I’ll have the rest.”

You situated yourselves on the couch in the corner of the room, sharing your breakfast in front of the tv. Though you weren’t complaining, you were uncertain as to why Bucky was still there. You began playing with the bracelet, and it caught his attention.

“What’s your story with the guy who gave you that?” he asked. “With Dean.”

You shrugged, willing your cheeks not to heat up. “He moved into the house next door when I was ten, and we just sort of became friends.”

“What kind of stuff would you do?”

“Stuff like this, I guess. Sometimes we’d go out to eat, sometimes we’d just talk.”

Bucky turned to face you full on, making you shift slightly in discomfort. “What’d he think about all this?”

“He said it was messed up, but I should try to make the best of it…” you trailed off, disappointed in your behavior.

“Will you?”

“I probably should,” you sighed. “It’s going to be a long two and a half years, otherwise.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Steve called you for lunch, you decided to join the others, much to Bucky’s annoyance. You had some fruit, and thanked Tony for the design of your room. When your mom asked if you wanted to go out with her the following day for some shopping, and you agreed. And you were regretting it.

“You’re joking right? When have I  _ever_  worn a skirt? Anyway, that one’s gross.”

Your mom sighed, bracing herself for another fight. “Well, it’s not for wearing out and about. It’s for school.”

“Why the hel-” you froze. “You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying…”

“Your new school has a strict dress code. You  _have_  to wear it.”

“There are other schools!” you whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. “New York’s huge! There’s like 20 of them near by!”

“It’s one of the best private schools in the state. Tony had to pull a lot of strings to get you accepted on such short notice.”

“Pri- Private school!? Why can’t I go to a normal school in my normal clothes? You never cared about private school before!”

“I know.” she rubbed her temples, trying to find the way to make you understand. “It’s just… it’s a great opportunity. A leg up to help you get into any college you want.”

“So, what?” you scoffed. “You don’t think I can do it on my own?”

“That’s not fair,” she said gravely. “You know that’s not it. And you know the type of people that get accepted first.”

“And if I decide I want to go to a state school in the middle of some farmland to study… agriculture and be a beekeeper… or something?”

Your mother didn’t bother fighting the grin that appeared. “Then you be the best damn beekeeper you can be. Hey,” she said when she saw your shoulders sag. “it’s just to get you a better chance. I don’t want you to become a socialite and go to fancy brunches or things like that, not if you don’t want to.”

“What if everyone at school’s like that? I won’t have any friends.”

Your mom pulled you into a hug. “Kids are little shits everywhere, Y/N. You had some back home, you’ll find some here, too. Peter’s really nice, I’m sure you’ll be fast friends.”

“Who the hell is Peter?” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in annoyance.

“He’s a lovely young man from Queens who interns at the tower. He’s in high school, too.”

“I’m not gonna be hanging with butt kissing employees, thanks.”

She smiled tightly and hugged you. “He’s not an employee,” she whispered. “He’s the Spider Man.” She pulled back and giggled at your stunned expression. “Besides, you and Bucky are getting on well, so you’ll have him, too.”

“He’s great, Mom, really, but he’s like, a hundred. Can you see us going to amusement parks and riding roller coasters til we wanna vom? Or having serious discussions on whether or not ‘burn them all’ is just like ‘hold the door’?”

She looked pensive for a moment before answering, “Actually, yeah, I can.”

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You see first hand how your life is changing, and Bucky decides to take you out.

After a few hours of buying things you didn’t even like, for school, for photos, for whatever event Tony might need you to look nice for, you were finally allowed to go to shops that had things you would actually wear.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else for lunch? There are so many fantastic restaurants and you want to eat at a food court?”

You gestured to the shops across the street. “Look! Four stores with regular clothes, a music shop, and two book stores. Why leave? Besides, I just want a smoothie.” A soft tittering from the person behind you made you aware you had been speaking a bit too loud. You offered him a small, embarrassed smile before your mom started talking again.

“Ok, fine,” she put her hands up in surrender.

Halfway through your meal, you noticed a familiar face with a phone aimed in your direction.

“What’s security supposed to do?” you asked.

Your mom slowly put her sandwich down and gave a quick glance around the area. “They’re supposed to keep an eye out for suspicious looking people, and make sure no one gets too close. Why?”

“Cuz there’s a lady that’s been following us. This is the third time I see her.”

“Ok,” she nodded as she pulled her own phone out. “Describe her.”

“Average height and weight, about mid 40s. Shoulder length brown hair, like walnut colored I guess… She’s wearing tan dress pants and a dark gray jacket thing with lots of buttons.”

She didn’t pause in her texting. “A pea coat?”

“I don’t fucking know,” you huffed. “It looks kinda like a military jacket with the two columns of buttons.”

“That’s a pea coat, sweetie.”

“Why the hell’s she wearing that? It’s almost July.”

“What’s she doing?”

“I dunno, taking pictures or video or something. The back of her phone’s facing us.”

Not long after, three men in suits approached the woman. After some exchanged words, she opened her coat, probably to show if she had anything concealed beneath it. When they left her alone, your mom’s phone went off and she read her message.

“Clear. She’s just a gossip columnist taking pictures.”

“Wonderful. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not stuffing my face,” you grumbled as you stood to throw your cup away.

“I know it’s weird, but you just have to pretend they’re not there. After you confirm they’re harmless, of course,” she stressed. “I’m proud of you. Watching your surroundings is more important now.”

“Rig- oof!” you had bumped into someone as you backed away from the table. “Sorry, excuse me.”

The same man from the line shot you a wide grin. “Don’t worry about it, man,” he dismissed with a giggle.

“I spoke too soon,” your mom teased, earning an eyeroll from you.

As you continued your shopping, you couldn’t help but look at the people around you. All the people watching you and some even snapping pictures. As far as you were concerned, no one should have known who you were. You flew in, got in a fancy car, and went straight to the tower. Who would have seen you? Then it hit you. You still had no idea how your mom came to marry Tony. For all you knew, she could have already been on the cover of every tabloid in the country.

Seein you were beginning to get agitated, your mom began to rub your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you.

“Tony says the trick is to pretend you don’t care,” she whispered. “Don’t give them anything to hold over you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Can I ask you a stupid question?” Bucky murmured from beside you.

“Sure.”

“What do the words next to peoples’ names mean?” He pointed at the bolded words in brackets before the players names.

“That’s their clan name. If you like the people you play with, or if you have friends that play, you can make a clan. Not only does it ensure you get on the same team, but you can also participate in clan only events and get exclusive weapons, upgrades, skins, all sorts of stuff.”

“Oh.”

“You get ranked on a leaderboard, too, and the higher your rank, the better the prizes you get.”

“You’re not in a clan,” he stated.

“Neither are you,” you shot back a little defensively.

“I didn’t know what it was,” he justified. For a little while, all you could hear were the buttons of your controllers being pressed. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You wanna be in a clan with me?”

Briefly looking away from the screen, you noticed his ears had turned pink. Realizing he’d never been comfortable enough to ask anyone regarding clan names, and given how long he’d been playing the game, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that he’d been able to ask you.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What do you wanna call it?”

After going back and forth with what seemed like hundreds of suggestions, you finally decided on ‘Outsiders’ and began to build your kill count as a clan.

Going at it for hours, neither having stopped to join the others for dinner, your stomach started growling. Bucky snickered, only to be silenced by his own stomach calling out as if in response to yours. You both went to the kitchen to look for something, finding nothing satisfactory.

Bucky knocked softly on the counter, briefly lost in thought. “You wanna go to Brooklyn?” he asked suddenly.

You raised a quizzical brow. “What, like, now?”

“Yeah. There’s a 24 hour diner there that has the best food.”

“Alright,” you shrugged, hopping of the counter. “Let’s go.”

“Hang on, I gotta go wake Steve.”

“Why?”

Bucky looked away, awkwardly scratching his chin. “I’m technically not supposed to be out long without him. Tony insists some people are still uneasy about me bein’ on the team…”

“Oh,” you joined him in the elevator, not knowing how to respond to that. “Will he mind?”

“Not if you play along,” he smirked.

“What are you going to do?” you followed him to a door you assumed was Steve’s and watched him knock.

“Coming,” a groggy voice came from inside. The door opened, and Steve had to blink a few times to register who was calling at such a late hour. “What’s wrong, guys?” he yawned.

“Nothin’. We were wonderin’ if you’d come with us to get some burgers…in Brooklyn.”

Steve sighed and leaned his head against the door frame. “Can’t it wait til tomorrow?”

“It could, but we haven’t eaten and there’s nothing in the kitchen.” Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Bucky cut him off. “And before you tell me we shoulda eaten with everyone, remember that some people have lost another’s trust. It’s hard to be around someone who’s always lyin’ to ya, ya know.”

Steve’s eyes flickered to you and nodded, saying he’d be out in a minute before retreating back into his room. Bucky looked over, giving you a pleased smile when the door closed.

“You’re terrible,” you mouthed, unable to help your own smile.

“You’ll thank me when you taste the food,” he whispered as he led you back to the elevator to wait for Steve.

Steve wanted you to ask Tony or your mom if you could even leave the tower first, to which you replied that Tony’s not been given parental privileges and your mother was fast asleep. In the end, you compromised by having FRIDAY notify her if she were to wake before you returned.

Down in the garage, you followed Steve toward the cars until Bucky tugged your arm, leading you toward the motorcycles.

“Stevie, c’mon!” he called, half pleading. “I need to feel the wind on my face.”

Steve turned, sighing in defeat as you excitedly put on the helmet you were given. To your surprise, he didn’t argue, and hopped on his own bike as you climbed on behind Bucky.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The ride was exhilarating, and far too short for your taste. Bucky and Steve chuckled at your soft whine when the engines died and you had to get off. When you left the tower, you were thinking of only getting something small, but the trip had you in the best mood you’d been in since your mom returned from her trip, and you were actually feeling good enough to eat something substantial.

As you walked in, a stack of newspapers and magazines caught your eye as you saw yourself on the cover of some tabloid. You groaned internally, seeing someone, probably the woman in the coat, had snapped a photo when you bumped into the giggling man on your way to the garbage can. You hadn’t really paid much attention to him then, his red hair and a too big smile catching you off guard.

Following the guys to the large corner booth, you took a seat and began to peruse the menu. The server came and you placed your order, eyes growing wider as list of food the other two were ordering grew longer.

Conversation flowed easily, with Bucky telling you what he could remember of their days in the 40s, while Steve filled in the blanks. They asked about the ‘boyfriend’ you left behind, and laughed when you explained the joke to them. When the food arrived, enough to cover the whole table, they insisted you take some of everything and watched as every bite you took elicited sounds of pleasure. Bucky had promised the food would be incredible, and he didn’t disappoint.

When the food was gone, you excused yourself to the restroom and washed your hands, finding them ready to leave when you returned. You put on the helmet and mounted the bike before taking off. Almost immediately, you noticed you were going the wrong way.

“Hey guys?” you shouted at a stop light. “This isn’t the way we came from.”

“We’re not going back to the tower, yet,” Steve replied. “We’ve still got one more stop.”

Perking up, your smile grew as the minutes ticked by and a familiar smell became stronger. They were taking you to a beach. The bike had barely stopped, and you leapt off before the engine was cut off. You made a run for the water, tossing your shoes and socks off on the way, desperate to feel the sand under your feet again. When you reached the shore, you rolled the legs of your bottoms up so they wouldn’t get wet, and waded in until you were knee deep.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and allowed your other senses to take over. It smelled different, and the crashing wasn’t as loud, but it still sent a wave of comfort washing over you.

“Hey, you ok?” Bucky’s soft voice rang from beside you.

“I am now,” you smiled, gazing out as far as you could in the dark. You turned to look for Steve, who was making his way over as well.

The three of you stood in companionable silence, content smiles on your faces. You were glad to have some semblance of familiarity, while Steve embraced the rare moment he could feel at peace. Bucky was just happy he could do something good for someone. He didn’t think it was much, but the look on your face told him it meant more to you than he could have imagined.

The moment was over, though, when a large wave crashed into you, knocking you off your feet and soaking the others. You got up, coughing out the remainder of the salt water you managed not to swallow.

“Y/N, your boyfriend’s kind of a jerk,” Steve commented, taking your hand and pulling you back to them.

“Yeah, Doll, I think he might be mad at you.”

You dropped to you knees, unable to contain yourself as you burst out in a fit of giggles. The others joined you, and soon you were overtaken by deep belly laughs. Now that you were all wet, you splashed around and tried to knock each other down. When you tired, Steve had you hop on his back and carried you to where you parked, while Bucky brought everyone’s footwear.

At the tower, they walked you to your room, where you thanked them once again for the amazing night. You wanted to go to bed, but the ride back left you chilled to the bone due to your wet clothes, and needed to take a warm shower if you didn’t want to risk getting sick. When you were finally able to settle in, you drifted off peacefully for the first time since this nightmare began.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony’s not happy with your growing bond with Bucky. While the team’s away, you meet a young web-slinger and a certain thunder god.

“ _‘Avenger Pajama Party?!’_ ” Tony shouted a headline, slamming the morning paper on the table in front of you. “What were you thinking?! Who said you could leave the tower?” His eyes drifted from you to your companions. “Who said you could take her?!”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?!” you snapped.

“Who am-” he looked around, laughing humorlessly. “Only your step-dad. And this is my house and I say you can’t leave the tower in the middle of the night without notifying anyone or without proper security!”

Bucky stood abruptly, insulted by Tony’s words. “You think we’d let her get hurt?”

“You would do well to keep quiet, Barnes,” Tony warned.

“Where’s my mom? FRIDAY, can you call her down here, please?”

“Of course, Miss.”

Steve finally spoke up. “Sit down, Buck.” Bucky huffed, but took his seat again. “She was perfectly safe, Tony.”

Tony sighed, bringing steepled hands to his lips. “Y/N, it’s not safe for you to just run around like you did back home. If you want to go out, fine, but see Happy to assign you a detail first.”

“Right,” you deadpanned, “because a guy in a suit is more intimidating than Captain America and the Winter Soldier.” You looked over at the two men, sitting stoned faced and arms crossed, and you were hit with an idea. “Who would dare come near me when people are so scared of him?” you tilted your head toward Bucky. The three men stiffened, but said nothing, wanting to know what you were getting at. “Isn’t that why we had to wake Steve last night? Because the public’s still terrified of him? So how was I in danger?”

“You could be targeted because of hi- our enemies,” Tony tried to correct himself, but you all caught it.

“Which will happen regardless of whether or not I’m with any of you.”

“I’m not the bad guy, here, Kiddo.” Tony noticed the way you winced at the nickname. “It kills me that the public’s having a hard time accepting him.” He tried his best to sound sincere, but fell just a tad short. “But I’m trying my best to make everyone happy.”

“So…” you picked at your nails, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to form. “you wouldn’t mind if I took on a summer project, then? To help the public accept him?”

Bucky turned to you, wondering if you were serious while Steve turned away to hide his smirk.

“Well, no,” Tony straightened, doing his best to avoid eye contact. “but I don’t think you’ll have much time with the honeymoon and school.”

“I have two months until school starts, and I’m not going on your honeymoon.”

“One month,” he corrected. “Your school starts their fall term in August. What do you mean you’re no-”

“WHAT?!” you shrieked. “When were you planning on telling me?”

Tony paled, realizing he’d just dropped yet another bomb on you. “When we got back from vacation. We figured some time away would soften the blow…” he trailed off.

“Except I’m not going. I told Mom that from the beginning.”

Tony’s jaw jutted in annoyance. “She never mentioned it. Pepper arranged everything for three.”

“Sucks when people keep things from you, doesn’t it,  _Dad_ ,” you jeered.

The elevator dinged and you heard footsteps approach. Your mom’s smile quickly dropped at the obviously tense situation in the kitchen.

“Morning,” she greeted cautiously. “What’d I miss?”

Before Tony could say a word, you leapt off your stool and ran toward her.

“Is it true I start school a month early?”

She exchanged a look with Tony before meeting your eyes again and nodding. “I’m sorry. Is that what this is about?”

“No,” Tony jumped in, handing her the paper. “She went out last night without telling anyone.”

“We were hungry and you were asleep,” you chimed in. “I told FRIDAY to let you know if you woke up.”

“Tony was awake,” she replied, looking at the picture of the three of you at the diner in your PJs. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

You knit your brows and scoffed, “Why would I? He’s a stranger.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and walked to counter to pour some coffee. Steve softened at the hurt look on Tony’s face, while Bucky’s eyes flickered between the three of you.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just upset over school and being yelled at as soon as I woke up.” Chancing a look at your mom, you saw she frowned at Tony, who was looking sheepish. “Well, since I only have half a summer, I’d like to make the most of it. What else can you show me?” you asked Bucky.

“We just went over this.” Tony looked like he wanted to rip his hair out. “You need a security team before you can leave.”

“She’s fine,” you mom said absentmindedly. “She’ll be with Steve and James.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You gestured the soldiers to follow you before Tony could protest. “See you later!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You insisted they join you and your mom dress shopping, and due to recent headlines, they didn’t resist much. Over the past several days, pictures of the three of you were on every paper. All of them showed Bucky doing something normal: playing at an arcade, eating cotton candy, petting a dog, etc., looking nowhere near as scary as he did previously.

It was easy to see Tony growing increasingly bothered by it as well, so it was a plus. You suspected it was why he insisted on throwing a party before his and your mother’s departure in your honor, and invited the families of everyone from your new school.

“If the party’s for me, why can’t I wear whatever I want and invite who I want?” you asked your mom as she lifted another dress to your neck.

“Because it’s for you to meet your classmates,” she soothed. “To maybe make some friends before your first day. It sounds like a great idea to me.”

You had to admit, it was a good idea, but you still couldn’t help but wonder if he was just trying to weaken your growing bond with Bucky.

“That one’s nice,” Steve offered. “Maybe you should try it on.”

In the fitting room, you grumbled as you stripped and contemplated how much time you’ll serve should you dare to wear one of those stupid dresses more than once. Looking in the mirror after zipping yourself up, you huffed in annoyance. The dress brought out your eyes and you looked fantastic. You stepped out to show them, and they all gushed, begging you to buy it.

Natasha and your mom helped you get ready while simultaneously trying to calm your nerves. You were pretty much going to be on your own as you and your mom were still on shaky ground, and Tony was just being Tony.

You made your way around the room for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour, cringing at the snippets of conversations you caught from both kids and their parents.  **‘Wait, so none of the other Avengers are coming out?’ ‘There aren’t even any reporters.’ ‘I was hoping to promote my clothing line.’ ‘You think now’s a good time to ask Stark about handling some of his accounts?’**

Everywhere you looked, there were fake smiles. One girl actually sneered at you and wiped her hand on her dress after shaking yours. It was all too much, and you headed to the balcony for some air. It wasn’t long until someone followed.

“Hiding?”

You rolled your eyes and tried to mask your distaste before turning. If arrogance were a person, this guy would be it. “Yeah,” you playfully grimaced. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked for the fifth time that night.

For the fifth time, his irritation flashed in his eyes, much to your amusement. “Chuck Bass.”

“Right. Chuck. Sorry, just so many new faces, you know?”

Chuck smirked, slowly closing the gap between you. “You can drop the act now,  _Miss Stark_. No one’s out here but us.” He snickered at your annoyance. “We can help each other out; you clearly don’t want to be here, and I would love to assist a beautiful girl like you.”

“Excellent delivery,” you spoke normally. “Had a lot of practice?” You sidestepped him and went back inside, giving the party another half hour before sneaking back up to your room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few days after Tony and your mom left, the remaining team were called on missions. Bucky was worried about leaving you alone, despite your promises that you wouldn’t leave the tower, and dragged you to see Happy to assign you a security detail. It took two days to find people who could work with you, but you were thankful for it as you did nothing but worry about your friends when you had nothing to do.

Happy was going on and on about some rules as he followed you to the kitchen, pulling a gun out and shoving you behind him when he saw the fridge was open. He groaned and put his weapon away when a boy emerged from behind the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” he waved awkwardly. “I just wanted to check in and see if maybe there was a mission or… something.”

“Yeah,” Happy perked up. “There is a mission for you.”

“Really?” he grinned. “What is it?”

Happy gave you a gentle shove forward. “Y/N, Peter. Peter, this is Y/N. Stark’s kid.” He ignored the dirty look you sent him. “Keep her company.”

You both stared slack jawed as he left. You turned back to find Peter blushing. “So, you’re the Spider?”

“What?! I- No!” he stammered. “I um, I’m Mr. Stark’s intern.”

“Right… so why’d you ask Happy about a mission?”

“I… didn’t.”

“Are you from Queens?” you asked, head tilted.

“Yeah.”

“My mom said a kid from Queens named Peter ‘interns’ for Tony, but is actually Spider Man.” You watched amusedly as he shifted uncomfortably. “So that’s not you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he sighed. “No one’s supposed to know, though.”

“Well, I kind of live here now, so I don’t know how you planned on hiding it from me.”

“Where is everyone, anyway?” he tried to hide his embarrassment by changing the subject.

“Either on vacation or a mission. Sorry, you just missed them by a couple days.”

“Oh.” He looked a little hurt, and you started to feel bad for him. “They didn’t call me.”

“Happy was just kidding, you know. You don’t have to stay, but I wouldn’t mind the company if you wanted to.” You weren’t sure why you invited him to stay. You were just glad he was so different from the other people your age you met.

“Really?” You smiled at his excitement. It reminded you of a puppy. “You wanna go somewhere and hang out or something?”

“Yeah, but should we? I mean, I’ve kind of only been going out with Steve and Bucky, so will people figure out who you are if we’re seen together?”

After realizing it would be a bad idea to leave, you decided to order some pizza and spent the day watching movies. Peter returned the next couple of days, and eventually told you about his aunt, his uncle, all the things that stress him out about being a hero, and you told him how worried you were about the team.

You and Peter were in the middle of a heated discussion on whether or not The Force Awakens was a good movie, when the sky suddenly went dark and there was a loud crash of thunder on the balcony. Before you could react, Peter pulled you to the kitchen and tried to stuff you into a cabinet.

“My friends!” a voice boomed. “I have returned!”

Both of you peeked over the counter, sighing in relief when you found Thor looking around as your security burst in. You shot Peter a look and he blushed.

“I didn’t know!” he hissed defensively. “I haven’t met him yet!”

“Miss?” one of the guards called. “It’s all clear; it’s only Thor.”

“Hear that? It’s  _‘only’_  Thor,” Peter scoffed, making you snort. You both stood slowly, drawing everyone’s eyes to you.

“Permission to return to our posts, Miss?” the same guard asked.

“Yeah,” you replied meekly, casting an unsure glance at Peter.

Neither of you moved as they left, only staring at a smiling Thor.

“Hello!” he greeted cheerfully. “Who are you?”

“Uh,” Peter’s voice cracked, much to his embarrassment, and quickly cleared his throat. “I’m Peter. I’m… an Avenger,” he finished confidently, growing pink at incredulous look the god gave him. “And this is Y/N. She’s Mr. Starks, uh, her mom married Mr. Stark.”

They were met with his booming bark. “Is this a trick?” He looked around, waiting for the others to jump out and share in the laughter, his own tapering off as he saw your serious expressions. “Where are the others?”

“Mr. Barton’s gone home, Tony’s away with my mom, and the others are on missions.”

The smile quickly faded from face as his amusement was replaced with concern.

“And you were left here? Alone?” He didn’t give either of you time to respond. “Do not worry, my young friends. I shall look after you until their return.”

You nearly choked on air. “What?”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Sir.”

“It is no trouble!” he assured. “What do you wish to do first?”

You ordered food and settled on another movie, immediately realizing you were going to need  _a lot_  more food. After the movie, Thor regaled you and Peter with stories of his misadventures in Asgard, leaving you both in awe. When it got ‘late’, he apologized for keeping you up and sent you and Peter to bed, refusing to let him leave despite Peter’s protests that he was perfectly safe.

In the morning, you were met with a horrified Peter in the kitchen. Thor greeted you and guided you to a stool, promptly setting a plate in front of you. You exchanged a nervous look with Peter before taking a bit of the obviously burnt scrambled eggs into your mouth. There was a noticeable crunch as you chewed, but seeing Thor’s proud, smiling face, you couldn’t do anything but smile and swallow. Satisfied with your reaction, he returned his attention to the stove.

You tried the pancakes next, which were no better. They were thick and gooey in the middle, and had clumps of flour in them. The bacon was the real tragedy; it was burnt at one end, and almost completely raw on the other. Movement caught your attention as Peter wrapped the food in napkins to hide it as trash. When he collected them and stood to throw them away, you reached for napkins to do the same, but Thor was piling food onto his own plate and getting ready to join you. In a panic, you switched your plate with Peter’s empty one, and jumped off your stool just as Thor turned around.

Peter shot you a look of betrayal, which you answered with an apologetic one. Sitting with a large glass of juice to wash the taste out, you watched as Peter slowly ate your food, never softening his glare. When he finished, he called for his aunt to pick him up, smirking at the look you gave him when you realized he was leaving you.

He returned the following day with a bag full of clothes, and made you apologize before giving you a sandwich he’d gotten from his favorite deli. Able to convince Thor to let you help him cook, you ended up with meals that were actually edible, making the day bearable.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thor took his self-appointed role as caregiver seriously, going so far as to ask FRIDAY to tell him if you or Peter were out of bed. It wasn’t all bad, though. It was funny when he grew embarrassed during nude scenes in movies, especially when he’d yell for you to avert your eyes.

You and Peter were in the middle of a laughing fit, Thor growing redder and redder at the scene playing out on screen, when one of your guards entered the room.

“Miss? There’s a delivery for you.”

“Did you order more food?” Peter asked, still trying to catch his breath.

“No.” You looked over to the door, eyes widening at the man who stepped through carrying a vase full of flowers. “Uh, are you sure that’s mine?”

Your security took a card from the bouquet and handed to you. It had your name, but no other information. Not even who they were from.

He took the vase, quickly tipping and dismissing the delivery man. “Where would you like them?”

“I guess the coffee table in my room?” you offered, not really sure what to do with them.

He gave you a short nod and left, leaving only the noises of the movie’s lovemaking in the background.

“Can I see?” Peter asked, taking the offered card. “Who do you think sent them?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s like a welcome thing or something.”

It was a suspicion that was confirmed a couple of days later when you received a greeting card welcoming you to the neighborhood. Again, only your name was on it, written in sloppy handwriting.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bucky’s mission ended first, and you were too relieved he was ok to be embarrassed about hugging him. Steve looked on with a soft smile that quickly died when he saw Thor marching over. After a shouting match between the two, in which Steve assured him you and Peter were old enough to be left alone, he introduced him to Bucky.

Peter returned home, promising he’d visit again soon, while Thor went with Steve to hear all about the mission. Bucky cleaned up and went to your room, immediately catching sight of the wilting flowers.

“Nice flowers,” he commented, joining you on the couch.

“Thanks. No idea who sent them.”

He raised a brow at you and smirked. “Got an admirer, Doll?”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted. “Got this like a day or two after.” You handed him the card and he looked it over.

“Nothing’s written in it.” You shrugged, and he began to snicker. “Good thing it’s just someone bein’ nice, or that Thor guy mighta gotten riled up.”

“It’s not funny. He gave me a bedtime and everything,” you complained, making him laugh harder.

In the following days, you picked up where you left off, getting seen around the city with Bucky, Steve, and now Thor. Peter came along sometimes, bringing his friend Ned to avoid too much speculation.

Not long after, the rest of the team you had yet to meet returned. They gaped at the news of Tony’s marriage. They were polite, but the whole situation was awkward enough that all they did was stare, and as much as you wanted to hide in your room, you forced yourself not to knowing that’s exactly what you’d be doing when your mom and Tony returned.

By the time they did, Bucky’s reputation had improved, much to Tony’s annoyance. Less than a week later, a team meeting was called where they were informed that the restriction on one Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes had been lifted. The room erupted in cheers, and they decided they would go out to celebrate and promptly left to get ready.

Tony stayed behind in the conference room, looking at all the photos taken by the paparazzi. His eyes kept lingering on one in particular; Ned and Peter were sitting on the ground with Steve, trying to hand feed a squirrel, while Bucky sat on the bench holding the peanut bag. You had your eyes closed, head leaning peacefully against his very visible metal arm.

“Tony?” you mom called softly as she entered. “Everyone’s going out tonight. Are you?”

“No. I have things to do.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he gathered the magazines, sighing when she approached and took them from him.

“These are nice,” she smiled. “I’m glad she found a friend in him.”

Tony scoffed. “Do you honestly trust him? You think she’s safe with him?”

“I do.”

“He killed my parents,” he croaked.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” she said. “But, he’s not the same man, and you know it. We messed up, Tony. Right now, he’s the only one she trusts, and that’s our fault. Being hostile to her only friend isn’t going to do us any favors.”

Taking the magazines from her hands, he looked them over once again. He wanted to have what James had with you. He wanted to see your smile in person, know what made you laugh, take you out and show you off. If he had to force himself to separate the man from the killer, then so be it.

“Alright,” he spoke as steadily as he could. “Tonight we celebrate, and tomorrow I’ll ask Pepper to find me a therapist.”

* * *

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School starts. Something creepy gives Bucky a bad feeling.

When you stepped into the kitchen on the morning of your first day of school, everyone could tell you were  _not_  happy. Bucky and your mom grimaced at seeing you in uniform, while Steve and Wanda tried to tell you how nice you looked.

“Morning, Pumpkin!” Tony greeted. Your mom suggested finding a different pet name when he mentioned your less than favorable reaction, reminding him ‘kiddo’, and ‘sweetheart’ were what Dean used to call you. He settled on ‘pumpkin’, relieved when you responded without distaste. “You’re up early. What do you say I bring the car around and we go out for breakfast before dropping you off?”

“No thanks,” you absentmindedly replied, noticing too late that he and your mom were dressed, clearly having planned for a morning together. “Uh, sorry, but Buck and I already have plans.”

Wanda focused on her coffee while Steve shifted in his chair. Bucky seemed to find the counter interesting all of a sudden.

“Of course you do,” Tony sighed with an eyeroll.

Your mom cleared her throat, sending him a pointed look. “I wish you’d have said something, Sweetie.” She winced at the irony as soon as she spoke. “Thank you, Bucky.” She kissed you goodbye and left, and Tony followed soon after.

“I need to meet Sam for training,” Wanda said, getting up from the table and pulling you into a hug. “It’ll be ok. I’ll pick up some ice cream for when you get back, alright?”

You thanked her, taking her empty seat while Bucky finished his coffee. Steve turned down your invitation to join you for breakfast, saying he needed to help train some new recruits. As you were leaving, you were stopped by a guard with another bouquet. You took the card, asking him to put them in your room and remove the dead ones you kept forgetting to trash.

“More flowers? You sure you some fella’s not under your spell or somethin’?”

“Who’re they from?” Steve asked, ignoring Bucky’s teasing.

You turned the card over in your hands, looking for a name. “It just says ‘Good Luck’.”

“Huh… that’s nice. Well, I need to get going, and you should be too if you’re going to be on time.”

Steve hugged you goodbye and wished you luck, patting Bucky’s shoulder before heading off.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bucky took you to a diner, and when you were too nervous to eat anything other than toast and fruit, he finished off your food before taking you to the hellhole you were meant to spend the next almost three years.

When you removed your helmet, he chuckled at the state of your hair and fixed it, bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders.

“I’m not gonna lie to ya, Doll; today’s probably not gonna be good. But I’m gonna be right here if ya need me. As soon as you step out those doors, we’re haulin’ ass outta here, ok?”

Despite how awful you felt, you smiled. “Thanks. I guess I should go look around so I don’t get lost.” Finding you couldn’t move, you took a shaky breath. “You’ll be here?”

“Right here,” he assured. “C’mon, Sam says you used to swim way out. If sharks don’t scare ya, these guys shouldn’t, either.”

“Yeah, well, sharks don’t usually  _want_  to hurt people. I’m not sure the same can be said for these guys.” Bucky laughed, making you smile again. “Alright, I’m going. See you later. Here.”

“Here.”

“Right.” With a final goodbye, you walked up the steps and found your way to the main office to get your schedule and ID.

Just as you let the library, you ran smack into someone, sending all your books tumbling to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” a blonde girl kneeled to help you pick them up. She did a double take and smiled. “Hey, you’re Y/N Stark, Right?”

“L/N, actually.” You didn’t recognize her, but as long as she was being polite, you were going to be, too.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Serena. Sorry I missed your party, by the way. I had family drama, you know how it is.”

“You didn’t miss much.” You both stood and she handed you your books. “Thanks.”

“Hey, Serena.  _Stark_ ,” that Chuck guy mocked. “If you’re nice to me, I might let you sit with me at lunch.” His eyes trailed your body as he but his lower lip. “Think about it,” he winked, leaving you both scowling after him.

“Y/N? Be careful with him, alright?”

You couldn’t decipher what the the look she gave you meant, but as Chuck made you feel slimy, it was easy to agree to keep your distance before parting ways.

Aside from a few greetings from people you vaguely remembered meeting at the tower, no one spoke to you. At lunch, Chuck tried asking you out again, earning you some dirty looks from some girls nearby. You left early to find your next class, eventually giving up and taking a risk in asking someone, only to be given wrong directions. By the time you made it to the right room, you were late and scolded while the rest of the class snickered.

The lesson was interrupted by the sound of a loud crash. A professor walked into the room to say someone had smashed their car into the front of the school and someone had gotten hurt. Several students got up to go see before they were told to take their seats. You, however, shoved past the professor and ran out, sighing in relief to find Bucky unharmed and speaking to a police officer.

He immediately spotted you and excused himself, catching you as you practically threw yourself at him.

“I’m alright,” he soothed, rubbing your back.

“What happened?” you asked, ignoring whoever was yelling for you to get back inside.

“Some guy lost control of his car and,” he gestured to the crumpled metal on the side of the steps. “I got out of the way in time. He musta been on somethin’ though, ‘cause he was bleedin’ from his head and just laughin’.”

“What the fuck?! That dick could’ve killed someone!”

“Miss Stark!” the person called again. “If you don’t come back inside I will have to phone your parents!”

“Go,” Bucky nodded toward the door. “I’m fine, I still gotta finish giving my report.”

You were reluctant to leave him, even though you knew there was nothing you could do. As you climbed up the stairs for the second time that day, you passed the angry professor and reminded him your name wasn’t Stark before heading back to the room you’d left. Thankfully, after explaining you needed to be sure your friend was safe, you were spared detention and the lesson continued on.

When the last class ended, you ran out to where Bucky was waiting, holding your helmet out and bike ready to go. Before most students even left the building, you were already speeding down the road.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bucky was sent on a mission that evening, and you were bummed you’d have to survive the rest of your first week on your own. Luckily, Peter was hanging around the tower and noticed your mood, offering to meet you after class in Bucky’s place.

True to his word, at the end of the school day, he was there. One day, his Aunt May was there, too. She’d been wanting to meet you, and decided to go with Peter and treat you to a late lunch. It was unsurprising being seen with him brought media speculation of your personal life. You both found it funny, glad at least his alter ego was still a secret.

You were a little shocked, though pleasantly so, when Peter was there the following week, and went to a little cafe you’d found and quickly made your go-to. Since you’d been photographed there a few times, business had picked up and the owners were more than happy to have you stop in.

“So, you know that snotty Blair girl?” you began. Both Peter and Ned nodded for you to go on. “She invited me over for dinner this weekend.”

“Oh,” Peter hummed in amusement. “That’s nice.”

Ned’s brows furrowed. “Why?” Peter nudged him, but he didn’t back down. “She’s been mean since they met and now she’s nice? You’re not suspicious?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah,” he conceded.

“Well, I overheard her talking to her friends, and her mom’s making her be nice and friendly so she can have me wear clothes to promote her line.”

“Are you going to go?” Both you and Peter shot him a look. “What? It’s free clothes!”

“13!” the owner shouted, and Peter leapt out of the booth to retrieve the trays of food.

“I’m not going. I’ve seen the way they both dress. Thank you Mr. Carr!” you called to the owner when Peter returned. The sweet old man smiled with a little wave, and you began to eat.

Halfway through your meal, Mrs. Carr approached your table, and after a short chat, left a stack of letters people had dropped off for you. Ned reached for one and opened it.

“What’s it say?” Peter asked, looking over his shoulder. You knew it wasn’t good when both their jaws clenched.

“What  _does_  it say?”

“Nothing important.” He snatched it from Ned’s hands, putting it on the seat between them and out of your reach.

With your approval, they each took another and you spent the afternoon reading through them. Only a few were unfriendly, and even fewer were marriage proposals, which seemed to amuse Ned greatly. Most were telling you how cool or lucky or pretty you were, and one came with a love letter for you to pass on to Natasha.

After tossing the rude letters in the garbage and making plans to hang out over the weekend, you had your driver take them home before heading back to the tower.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bucky returned that Sunday and ended up sleeping well into Monday, missing you before you’d left for school. Unsure if you still wanted him to meet you, he frowned when he saw you hadn’t messaged him, so he headed to the kitchen to see if you’d mentioned anything to the others.

The elevator opened, revealing Tony already inside. Bucky contemplated waiting, but when Tony stepped aside to let him in, he reluctantly joined him.

“Morning, Barnes.” His greeting had a fraction of the animosity it usually had.

“Morning.”

“Where you headed?”

“Kitchen.”

Tony pressed the button for the right floor, fingers drumming against his leg. “Have a good rest?”

Bucky faced him, scanning him for hints of sarcasm. The look on his was pained, but otherwise seemed sincere. “Yeah, thanks.” He paused, wondering if he should speak again. “Did uh, did Y/N say if she still wanted me to pick her up?”

“You haven’t been gone  _that_  long,” he laughed dryly. “No, she hasn’t said much of anything. Not to me, anyway.” He watched Bucky awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “She probably does, though.” Bucky nodded, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. When the door opened at the common floor, Tony watched Bucky step out, fighting to force himself to follow his therapist’s advice. “Barnes.” He saw the wariness in his posture as he turned. “Thanks for being there for her.”

Bucky schooled his features, hiding the flood of emotions and suspicion he felt. “Sure.” He kept his eyes locked on Tony until the doors closed and the elevator was on its way to the lab floors. In the kitchen, he found Sam making a sandwich.

“Hey, what’s with Stark?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, not looking up from his task.

“He’s tryin’ to be nice.”

“To  _you_?” he chuckled. “Damn.”

A large bouquet at the end of the counter caught his eye. “Who’re those for?”

This time, Sam did turn. “Oh, they just came for Y/N.”

Bucky raised a brow. “More?” Sam shrugged and began eating his food. “I’ll take ‘em to her room.”

He took the vase and went back to the elevator, glad it was empty this time. On the way to your floor, he wondered if you’d mind if he went into your room while you weren’t there, suddenly hesitant about delivering your flowers. He knew where you put them, and he knew if there was anyone who you’d allow inside, it would be him. Still, he paused in front of your door, hand frozen on the knob.

Taking a deep breath, he bit the bullet and walked in. He’d missed you while he was gone; missed being in your room. The messy bed and clothes on the floor made him smile on his way to your coffee table to replace the dead flowers with the fresh.

The smile fell from his face when he saw them, though. He plucked the card from the new bouquet, looking for anything suspicious. One side had your name written in neat cursive, and below that were the words,  ** _‘Miss You’_**. It was printed on the card, and your name was likely written by the florist. He set the vase down and took the card from the dead bouquet, finding only your name on it in different, though still neat handwriting.

Leaving the fresh flowers and card, he took the old vase and headed back to the elevator. Rather than trashing them, he took them to his room and stared, wondering if he should listen to his gut, or accept it was probably a coincidence that your once beautiful bouquet now looked like a mass grave with tiny skulls dangling from brittle stems.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School’s shit, as usual. Bucky doesn’t know what to make of the gifts you keep receiving, and it’s making him nervous.

At school, you were met by a seething Blair. Her mother had told all the dinner guests you would be there, only for her to be left humiliated by your absence. It only added salt to the still fresh wound when you appeared in the papers the following day with two ‘unknowns’ in Queens. Had Blair not been so unpleasant from the start, you may have tried to find it in you to care.

All throughout the day, she was making snide remarks. Serena asked her to knock it off, and even Chuck came to your defence a couple of times, but she wasn’t about to let it go.

“Everyone knows you’re not like us, you know. You could have made things easier for yourself if you’d accepted our invitation.” She had been growing more and more agitated the more you ignored her. “And Chuck? Don’t think for a moment that he actually likes you. You’re fresh meat. Another notch on his bedpost waiting to happen.”

“I doubt that,” you finally spoke. “I’m not interested in Chuck.”

“What?”

A soft snicker escaped you at her annoyance. “Fortunately for you, my affections lie elsewhere. Your jealousy is unwarranted.”

“Jealous? Of you?” she scoffed. “Who is it, anyway? One of those boys you slum it up with?” she mocked. “Oh god, don’t tell me it’s that trashy, metal armed murderer.”

Anger flashed in your eyes, and her own widened as the smirk was wiped off her face. “You’re right; I’m not like you. I don’t have anyone riding my ass to make sure I don’t embarrass them. Nobody’s forcing me to befriend someone I despise to serve their agenda. I’m  _no one’s_  pawn. The only reputation I have to worry about, is my own. So believe me when I say I have no problem with you walking out of here with a busted jaw if that’s what it’ll take to shut you up.”

She blinked at you, regaining her composure with a huff. “Of course you’d resort to such threats,” she smiled humorlessly. “Of course, if you lay a hand on me, my lawyers will be getting in touch.”

“Considering your mom needs me to help her business, I’m going to guess Stark’s legal team is better.” You fought the urge to laugh when her smile fell yet again. “So you leave me the hell alone, and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” You bumped her shoulder when you passed her and stepped out the front doors. A genuine smile reached your eyes for the first time that day when you spotted Bucky waiting for you outside.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Are you ok?” you asked as his eyes shifted for the hundredth time. “We can go back to the tower if you want.”

“I’m fine.” He smiled at Mrs. Carr as she brought your drinks. “What’s this?” he gestured to the stack of mail she left on the table.

“Just some stuff people leave here for me. I got a love letter for Nat while you were gone.”

He froze mid-sip. “People know you come here often enough to leave you things?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “If I don’t go back somewhere I’ve already been seen, I’ll run out of places to go… eventually.”

“Have you seen anybody strange? Or someone you run into often?”

“You mean besides those pests at school?” you scoffed. “No. Why?”

Bucky’s eyes scanned the diner, and then the pile of mail. When he saw your brow furrow and begin to look around, he knew he was starting to worry you.

“Nothin’. Just askin’.” From the look you gave him, he knew you weren’t convinced. The last thing he wanted was to scare you, but he needed you to be alert. “Promise me you’ll be careful, alright? Just, be aware of your surroundings. If you see someone, or even just get a strange feeling, let me know.”

“Ok,” you agreed. He smiled and visibly relaxed just in time for your order to be called out. “Wanna help me open these?” you asked when he returned with the tray. “Peter, Ned, and I do it while we eat.”

He agreed, taking note of all the ones that could be potentially threatening. When you got back to the tower, he followed you to your room as usual, watching to see where you stashed them. As much as he didn’t want to, he was going to have to wait until you left for school again before he could get his hands on those letters. He felt a little guilty at making plans to sneak into your room and look through your things, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

The morning didn’t bring him any comfort. Especially not when you passed Tony on the way out.

“Off to school, Pumpkin?” he asked.

“Yup. See you later,” you called as Bucky trailed behind you.

“Morning, Barnes,” Tony greeted politely.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled.

“Oh wait!” you shouted before running back. “How much trouble will I be in if I get into a fight at school?”

Bucky’s insides tightened nervously, and was about to ask what you meant before Tony spoke up.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to confer with your mother on that one.”

“I meant legally,” you deadpanned, already knowing how your mom felt about it.

“Oh. Don’t worry about it.” He was about to ask why, but you had run off with a quick ‘thanks’. “What’d she mean by that?” he asked Bucky.

“I dunno. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Bucky waited until you got to the school to ask you what that was about, but you shrugged it off, saying the school was just full of jerks. After wishing you a good day and watching you get safely inside, he relayed to your security team that he was heading back for a bit.

In your room, he quickly got all the letters you’d been collecting, along with the guest book Tony had everyone sign at your party. He did his best to try to match anyone in the book to the letters, but came up empty. Eventually, he had to give up and placed everything back where he found it, and headed back to the school.

“Hey Buck,” you sighed in relief.

“Hey, Doll. How was your day?”

“Yuck, like always. But don’t worry, I didn’t get into a fight,” you grinned.

“Good,” he chuckled. “I was thinking we could go to this pizza place Sam’s always ravin’ about in Harlem. You up for it?”

“Yeah,” you replied, slipping the helmet on. “Sounds good.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

From then on, he always took you somewhere different under the guise of wanting to explore the city with you. He didn’t like keeping his concerns to himself, but he didn’t see the point in saying anything just because of a bouquet of dead flowers and seemingly harmless ‘fan’ mail.

The fight hadn’t come up again, and Tony was too preoccupied with Peter to remember.

Peter had started showing up at the tower shaken by a few close calls in Queens. Today, he had been grazed by a bullet.

“I told you, let the police take care of the dangerous stuff!” Tony scolded.

“I wasn’t anywhere dangerous, Mr. Stark, I swear!” he defended. “I was just walking home from school!”

Tony eyed him curiously, running things over in his head. First he was nearly bumped off the platform in the subway as the train approached. Peter said the man looked a little imbalanced and kept laughing to himself, even after Peter almost fell, but thought it was an accident considering how crowded it was. But then, a statue nearly fell on him when he passed a church on his way home from school, he was nearly dragged into an alley more than once, and now he’d been shot at.

“Maybe you should lay low for a while.” He put his hand up to stop him when he was about to protest. “Kid, I think someone may have figured you out. Or at least they think they have. For your safety, and for your Aunt’s, just keep your head down until we figure this out, ok?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” he conceded.

“Good. In the meantime, I’ll have Happy assign you both a security detail.”

Peter stopped coming by, too afraid of the people around him getting hurt should his assailants try again. After a few weeks, the attacks stopped, but no one ever found out who they were.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

During that time, Bucky waited in the lobby on delivery day to see if he could get any more information on who was sending the flowers. As he suspected, it was a different shop every time. When asked about the person who purchased them, all he was told was they were bought online with gift cards, and no name was ever left behind.

Sometimes they came with candy, which he never gave you. Twice they came with a stuffed animal, and once with a music box, which he had FRIDAY scan for anything out of the ordinary before debating whether he should let you have them. He put them in a box in his closet until he decided, letting you have only the flowers in the meantime.

Coming back from a grocery run before heading back out to pick you up, he was stopped by the man at the front desk.

“Mr. Barnes? There’s been a delivery.” Confused, Bucky approached the desk. “No flowers this time,” he answered what he figured Bucky was wondering, “but as you’ve been here for the others I thought you might want to take it up yourself.”

He thanked the man and took the box, waiting until the elevator closed behind him to check it. He knew it was baked goods from the smell, and when he opened the box, he was met with the ugliest cookies he’d ever seen.

“Geez, this guy ever even bake before?” he wondered aloud.

He rearranged everything to hide the cookies in case there were others in the kitchen. When there weren’t, he tossed the box in the garbage and took the accompanying letter to his room. All it said was he hoped you were liking New York better, and asked if you liked the previous gifts.

He released a frustrated sigh, still not eased by the letter’s innocent content, but neither able to say for certain it was something to be concerned about. Walking over to the closet, he dropped the letter in the slowly filling trinket box, and returned to the kitchen to grab the trash on the way out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Morning, Honey,” your mom kissed your cheek as you had your breakfast. “I was thinking I could pick you up from school and we can go shopping.”

Bucky put his paper down and smiled at her, but turned to you, showing he wouldn’t step aside unless you wanted him to.

“Shopping for what?”

“Well, you have that gala coming up at your school, and I’m leaving on assignment next week. I just wanted to help you look for a dress.”

“Gala?” you scrunched your nose in distaste. “It’s not even like a regular formal?” You exchanged a confused look with Bucky. “I mean, we can hang out if you want, but I never said I wanted to go to that dance.”

“Oh.” She put her coffee mug down and caught the look you gave her. The one that said you knew she wanted to say more. “It’s just that I thought you’d be more settled by now; have some friends, go on some dates… things girls your age love doing.”

“You never cared about that before,” you snapped. “What is it really?”

She sighed and sat beside you, taking your hands in hers. “Sweetie, are you even trying?”

You stared at her blankly for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“I got a call from Eleanor Waldorf, your classmate Blair’s mom, inviting us to Sunday brunch. She said Blair’s done nothing but talk about you since you met, and wants to be your friend, but you keep turning her down. You need to give these people a chance.”

Bucky silently folded his paper and placed it on the table, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket and placing it in his pocket.

“I think you should consider a different career,” you said quietly as you snatched your hands back. “It seems you’ve lost the ability to tell when someone’s feeding you bullshit.”

Bucky watched your mom rub her temples as you grabbed your bag and rushed to the elevator. “I don’t like buttin’ into these situations,” he began when you were out of earshot, “but it’s not her that won’t give ’em a chance. You know she doesn’t belong there. So do they.” He grabbed his keys and followed you out, leaving your mom to think over his words.

It was silent in the elevator, and neither of you spoke until he stopped in front of the school.

“You alright?” he finally asked.

You took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess. I’ll see you later.”

“Hang on,” he stopped you before you could leave and reached into his pocket. “Here. You didn’t get to finish your food.”

You sent him a grateful smile and took the apple, leaning in for a quick hug as you expressed your thanks.

The day had been uneventful, which you counted as a win. When it was over, you ran outside to find Bucky, only to falter when you saw the black car and suits.

“Sergeant Barnes was called away, Miss,” one man informed as he opened the door. “Mrs. Stark would like to spend the afternoon with you in his stead.”

You climbed into the back beside your mother, ignoring her tight smile as you checked your message from Bucky. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere until you change out of those,” she sassed, handing you a bag with some of your regular clothes inside.

With all the windows and partition up, you quickly changed and relaxed, happy to feel your normal, comfortable self. “Thanks,” you said, stuffing your school shoes into the bag.

“I thought we could catch a movie and hit some shops before dinner. I’ve been needing a new travel bag.” You only hummed in response. “I’m sorry about this morning. I should have asked you before what was really going on.” This time, she was met with silence. “I called Mrs. Waldorf back and cancelled brunch.”

“Good,” you replied instantly. “All she cares about is being associated with a Stark.”

“How do you know?”

“I heard Blair bitching about being forced to invite me to dinner so she could show off.”

“Wow,” she sighed.

The rest of the ride to the theater was silent except for the occasional ping of your phone’s messenger, conversation only picking up after the movie when she asked you how you liked it. Finding the right bag proved to be difficult, but you both ended up getting a few other things you liked. The tension between you had lifted significantly by the time you were ready for dinner, but threatened to resurface when you pulled up to the restaurant.

“Oh… you didn’t mention we were meeting Tony,” you said as his figure approached the car.

“Is that alright?”

“… Sure.”

“There are my girls!” he called as he opened the door. “How was school?”

“Ok.” You eyed the other patrons entering the restaurant.

“They have great pasta,” he offered, sensing your hesitance. “But we can go somewhere else if you want.”

“Pasta sounds good, but I’m a little underdressed for this place. Sure you’re fine being seen with me?”

You had asked so casually, they were taken aback. “You’re fine, Sweetie,” your mom comforted as Tony led you to the door.

“Why don’t you ladies go ahead and order. I’ll be back in a few.” Without waiting for a response, Tony pulled out his phone and walked away.

Inside, you were seated and given menus. So many things sounded delicious, you couldn’t make up your mind and ended up taking long enough for Tony to return.

“Have you decided?” he asked as he took his seat by your mom.

You looked up briefly to reply and did a double take. Instead of his suit, he was in a dingy band tee and jeans. “Uh, no. I can’t decide.”

“Well, all I know is now I’m overdressed,” you mom feigned annoyance. She took off her blouse and stuffed it in her purse, leaving her in a cami.

Tony chuckled before turning back to you. “We can come back tomorrow, if you like. Or, you can get it all today. It’s up to you.”

The waiter returned, and after casting a not so subtle glance at everyone’s attire, took your order. You ended up asking for two dishes, unable to choose between them. Tony asked what you’d gotten up to that afternoon, and while your mother answered, you took a moment to really look around the restaurant. Your eyes landed on a familiar face and you froze. Nate was with his parents, being talked at and looking completely miserable.

Your attention was brought back to your table by Tony. “What about you, Pumpkin?”

“Huh?”

“The movie.”

“Oh… um…”

To say he and your mom were waiting expectantly would have been a lie. They looked more hopeful than anything. You chanced another look toward the Archibalds, and upon finding none of the gentleness on your parent’s faces present on Nate’s, you began to feel guilty. It was unfair of them to tear you from your home like they did, and though you knew you had every right to be upset, you were beginning to feel like a brat. As if feeling your eyes on him, Nate quickly turned, catching your gaze and his parents’ attention.

“I liked it,” you replied, focusing back on Tony. “Different from the book, obviously, but I think they did a more than fair job of adapting it. I was a little upset my favorite scene from the book didn’t make the movie, but,” you trailed off with a shrug.

Tony blinked in surprise. “Oh, wow. Ok, what’s your favorite scene in the book?” he asked timidly.

Your mom reached for his hand under the table and gave it an encouraging squeeze as you began to describe the setting, characters, and why the scene was essential to the plot. He asked every question he could think of to keep you engaged, which you found surprisingly easy to indulge.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark. Mrs. Stark,” someone said during a lull in the conversation. You all looked up to find a flustered Nate standing just behind you. “Miss L/N.”

“Evening,” Tony greeted. “And you are?”

“Nate Archibald, Sir. I go to school with Y/N.”

“That’s nice,” your mom smiled warmly. “How can we help you, Nate?”

“I was hoping Miss L/N would honor me with a dance.” You raised your brows, barely catching his eyes shift from you to where his table was. “Please,” he added softly.

You turned to grab your drink, glancing at his table to see his parents glaring daggers at him. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said, standing up and taking Nate’s hand. “Just so you know, I may end up stepping on you.”

He actually laughed. “That’s fine. I’m sorry about this. I tried to tell them to let you have dinner in peace, but…” As you swayed, he cast a nervous glance to your table. “Could you maybe smile a little? I’m not exactly thrilled, either.”

“Fine,” you complied, smiling widely. “But, you better clear things up with your girlfriend. I don’t need her giving me shit for this.”

When you returned to the table, his parents were seated there as well. After praising you beyond the point of embarrassment, they offered to pay for your dinner and extended an invitation to their annual Christmas party. They only left when your food came, and even then Mr. Archibald wouldn’t leave until Tony accepted his business card. He gave it to Happy to dispose of as soon as you left the restaurant.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thankfully, Blair didn’t so much as look your way anymore, despite having been spotted dancing with Nate. Chuck, you still had a problem dodging. No matter what, he wouldn’t let up.

“Hey,  _Stark_.”

“What do you want?” you groaned. He had stopped you on the steps just outside, and you were itching to get back to the tower.

“I hear you still don’t have a date to the gala. Lucky for you,” his eyes creepily trailed down your body. “I don’t either. We should go together.”

“I’m not going to the gala, least of all with you. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You tried to sidestep him, but he blocked your path again.

“Why not? Is it because of what you told Blair?”

“Ok, I’ll bite,” you sighed. “What did I tell her?”

“That you like someone. I hate to break it to you,” he grinned smugly, “but seeing as you don’t have a date, I think it’s safe to say it’s one sid-”

“Hey, Sweetheart,” a familiar voice called from below. You gasped, eyes widening when you saw him at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you miss me?”

“Dean!”

* * *

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Bucky meet

 

Chuck was taken aback by the intrusion, allowing you to slip past him and right into Dean’s waiting arms. You buried your face into him, inhaling his familiar scent of leather, engine oil, and the sea air; of home. You couldn’t help the few tears that escaped as Dean held you.

“Hey, come on,” he soothed. “None of that. You promised me a smile, remember?”

You pulled back with a soft giggle, “Sorry.” You fought the urge to lean into his touch as he wiped your tears. “What are you doing here?”

He shot a quick glance toward Chuck. “Missed my favorite girl,” he grinned. “Came to take you on a date.”

Though you knew he was only saying it to help you with Chuck, you couldn’t help the way your heart nearly burst. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Tucking you under his arm, he led you toward his pride and joy, leaving a fuming Chuck behind. Once in the car, he gave you a moment to take in the familiarity before addressing what he’d witnessed.

“So who was that?”

“Ugh,” you groaned with an eyeroll. “Just some billionaire’s brat who has a reputation to uphold.”

“What’s that got to do with you?” He caught your smirk and cocked brow. “Ah, got it.”

“Anyway, I don’t wanna waste another second talking about school. How’ve you been? What brings you all the way to New York?”

As you directed him toward Brooklyn, he told you he hadn’t heard from his dad in a while and couldn’t reach him, so he went to check on him. Turned out he was fine, just on an extended hunting trip with friends. Since the cabin wasn’t too far off, he decided to see how you were settling in. He also passed along Sam’s we’ll wishes, and updated you on how he was.

He ordered his usual bacon cheeseburger, stopping dead after the first bite. “Wow…”

“Right?”

“This is really good.”

“I know!”

He took another bite, humming his approval. You ate in relative silence, enjoying the food far too much to focus on anything else until you were waiting on your dessert.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, leaning back against the seat.

“It’s the first place Bucky wanted to show me, so he and Steve brought me one night.” You smiled fondly at the memory, and it didn’t escape Dean’s notice.

“Bucky, huh?” he chuckled dryly. “You with him often, then?”

“I guess, yeah,” you shrugged. Your attention shifted toward the approaching server. “We’re alike in a lot of ways, you know? It’s comforting.”

You expected him to make heart eyes at the large slice of pie that was placed in front of him. After a quick ‘thanks’, you realized he hadn’t dug into it as he usually did, and asked if something was wrong.

“No, it’s just… you’re not gonna replace me, are you, Kiddo?” he pouted playfully.

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “As if anyone could hold a candle to you.” You quickly shoved a mouthful of your own dessert, hoping to hide your embarrassment at the admission.

Satisfied with your response, he tried the pie and immediately ordered a whole one to go.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Though Dean had planned to leave the following evening, he ended up staying for a few more days. You still had school, but all your free time was spent with Dean. He made sure to give Chuck taunting winks when he dropped you off in the mornings, and made sure to be there the minute you got out to spend the rest of the day with you.

Knowing your time with Dean was, again, limited, you spent most of the night in the common room watching movies. Sometimes he fell asleep on the couch, and you’d curl up beside him and drift off yourself. It was innocent enough, at least to the others. But when Bucky returned from his mission and found you both on his way to the kitchen, the worry that’d been festering inside him was replaced with suspicion.

You’d mentioned school friends before, but no one was as influential in your life as Dean. From what you’d told him about the man, and the fact that he was much older and so far away, Bucky had ruled him out as your ‘admirer’. Now that he was here, with you, he realized he’d written him off far too quickly.

He headed to the couch and scooped you up, away from Dean, and turned back toward the elevator. In your room, he pulled the covers back and placed you down as gently as he could.

“Bucky?” you asked sleepily.

“Hey, Doll,” he whispered. “Sorry I woke ya.”

“Mkay. Jus glad yer home safe.” You gave him a sleepy hug and settled into your pillow.

Once you’d fallen back to sleep, Bucky retired to his own room and looked through what he had again, looking for anything that would point to Dean.

In the morning, he’d gone to the common room to get a closer look at Dean to see what he could decipher from the man himself. As if he knew someone was watching, he began to stir. It wasn’t long until his eyes flew open.

“Jesus!” he flinched. “What’s with you? You get your freak on by watching other people sleep?”

Bucky kept his steely gaze on him as he stuck his hand out. “Sergeant Barnes.”

Dean stood up, returning a glare of his own. “Dean Winchester.”

Bucky felt Dean’s tight grip and decided to show him who the stronger man was. His smirk barely had time to form before it died when Dean gave no indication of being bothered by the added pressure. They stood there, hands locked together as they sized each other up, only releasing when the elevator opened.

“Morning, Buck,” Steve greeted with a smile before turning to Dean. “Morning.”

Dean wasn’t as guarded making Steve’s acquaintance, and Bucky began to wonder if he should clue him in on what was going on to see if he could get anything out of Dean. When more people began to trickle in, Dean excused himself to freshen up, and Bucky went on to help Steve cook breakfast.

When you made it to the kitchen, you attacked them both with hugs and spent a few minutes catching up before Dean returned. He offered to cook for you, and you eagerly accepted, much to Bucky’s annoyance. Even more annoying was the fact that he’d made extra, and the others were raving about it.

“So, what do you wanna do today?” Dean asked as he picked up your dishes.

You turned your hopeful eyes toward Steve and Bucky. “Well, if you’re not tired, can you take us to Coney Island?”

Bucky was tired, but agreed nonetheless. Steve liked that Bucky was getting out more, so he said he’d join you as well.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Though Steve knew the Bucky he grew up with was gone, he could still tell when something was off. He didn’t want to ride in Dean’s car, then he’d scoff whenever you and Dean sang along to a song neither he nor Bucky knew, and all throughout the day he would try to place himself between you and Dean. He knew it wasn’t just that he’d missed you. Whatever his problem was was with Dean. He wasn’t sure you’d noticed it until you asked him to sit with you on the ferris wheel, sighing in relief when you were off the ground.

“They hate each other,” you lamented.

“Nah, I think Buck’s still just tired from the mission.” He chuckled nervously at the skeptical look you gave him. “Ok, he’s a little hostile toward him. But he tends to be closed off around new people, present company excluded.”

“Dean’s the same,” you added. “He can be outright rude at times, but he’s a good guy. I guess I just thought they would see through that outer roughness and get along.”

“Maybe with time,” he offered along with a comforting hug.

Once you’d seen everything and sampled as much of the food as you could, you headed back toward the car. Steve watched as Bucky glared daggers at the back of Dean’s head, almost bumping into you when you stopped in your tracks with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He and Bucky were immediately on alert, only to see you pointing toward the car.

“No no, Baby!” Dean ran toward her and dropped to his knees. “Come on!” he pleaded as he licked his thumb and tried to rub the scratches away.

Bucky snorted as Dean hung his head, and Steve threw him a warning look.

“Who would’ve done this?” you asked. The drive there went smoothly, and there were plenty of spaces to park, so you couldn’t think of a reason why someone would be angry enough to vandalize the car.

“Some psycho getting his sick kicks!” Dean replied. He narrowed his eyes at Bucky when he snorted again, trying to contain his laughter. “It was you, wasn’t it you son of a bitch!” He got to his feet and stalked toward him.

“When would I have done it?” Bucky challenged as Steve prevented him from advancing.

“Dean, no! He was with us the whole time!” you defended, taking hold of his arm.

“Well then he told someone else to!”

“Tell me when.” Bucky’s voice was getting dangerously low, but Dean’s resolve never wavered.

“That’s enough,” Steve asserted. “Everyone get in the car and let’s head back before you cause a scene.”

Grateful for the intervention, you led Dean back to the car and waited until he got in to head to the passenger side. Steve gave Bucky a last warning before directing him to the seat behind you. The drive back was silent and felt longer than it was, and all parties were relieved when you finally pulled into the garage.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The following day was no better, and while they were both slightly ashamed their behavior ruined your day out, neither were willing to back down. When you retreated to your room to do homework, neither noticed your departure.

A knock on your door pulled you from your studies. You groaned internally, knowing that if it was one of them, the other would be following soon after. When you opened the door, though, it was Tony stood on the other side.

“Hi, can I come in?” You stood aside and he waltzed in, taking a quick look around the room and frowning. “You haven’t filled it yet,” he stated, eyes lingering on the empty shelving. “Sorry. What are you up to?”

“Homework.” You closed the door and went back to your bed, all your papers strewn about.

Tony was about to remind you you had a desk in there, but decided against it when he noticed your tense body language. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum have quit bickering… for the time being, anyway.”

“Thank goodness for that,” you mumbled.

“Mind if I sit?” He gestured to a blank spot on the bed, and you moved a book to make more room. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “Just disappointed, is all.”

“Not going as well as you’d hoped…yeah, there’s a lot of that going around lately.” Neither of you dared look up, letting silence fill the room until Tony cleared his throat and clapped his hands. “Well, everyone’s getting ready to watch a movie. Why don’t you join us? I ordered your favorite pizza.”

“Sure. Just give me a minute to finish this bit and I’ll be down.”

Tony left you to finish up in peace, and by the time you made it down to the common room, the food was there and the movie already starting.

When Wanda saw you hesitate, she ran up to you and took your arm. “Sit with me,” she whispered, a sympathetic smile on her face.

You thanked her and settled in, all too happy to just focus on the food and film in front of you for the next couple of hours. Toward the end, the elevator opened and Happy emerged carrying a box.

“I’m not a delivery boy,” he argued as he approached the sitting area. Tony pointed to the counter, silently indicating he didn’t want it there. “Not for you.” He bypassed Tony and stopped in front of you, rolling his eyes when you only stared at him. “Don’t tell me Tony’s rubbed off on you?”

Wanda nudged you, and you took the offered package. “Open it,” she encouraged.

Bucky froze in his seat. Until his last mission, he’d been on top of all the gifts you’d been sent. He observed Dean, noting the stiffness in his own posture.

“Oh my god!” you screamed. “It’s a first edition!”

His eyes kept flicking back and forth; you clinging the book to your chest, and Dean’s careful composure.

“Who sent it?” Tony asked, kicking himself for not having thought to get it himself.

You checked inside the front and back covers while Wanda checked the box, both coming up empty.

Bucky knew that would most likely be the case, so he took the opportunity to find out once and for all if Dean was behind it all. “I did,” he rushed. “I uh, wanted to apologize for bein’ a jerk yesterday and-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as you launched yourself at him and embraced him. As you kept expressing your thanks, he looked over your shoulder to meet Dean’s cold, hard gaze.

He was livid, and it didn’t take a spy to see the set in his jaw and flared nostrils. It was all the answer Bucky needed.

* * *

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Bucky are wearing the reader thin. No Tony in this part, but he’ll be back in the next!

The next few days were Hell. As much as you loved having Dean’s attention, it was beginning to be a little much. Add to that that Bucky barey let you out of arm’s reach. At school, you tried not to laugh at the fact that it was the only place you could find solace from their constant bickering and no longer subtle exchange of dirty looks. It was even better now that it seemed Chuck finally took the hint and steered clear of you.

You were in your room doing homework, both men keeping a close eye on you and each other, when there was a knock at the door. Natasha stepped inside without waiting for a response.

“Come on,” she gestured for you to follow her. “We’re having a girls night. Wanda’s waiting downstairs.”

You couldn’t close your book fast enough and jumped off the bed. “Thank god,” you mumbled and rushed out the door.

Bucky moved to follow, prompting Dean to do the same.

Natasha put her hand up to stop them. “You’re crowding her. Stop your pissing contest and either learn to get along or decide on a schedule. I’ll bring her back later.” She slammed the door behind her, leaving the two men to glare at each other.

Dean chuckled humorlessly. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Good,” Bucky growled.

“You won’t think so after I’ve had a little chat with her mom.”

“I’ve been entrusted with her protection.”

“Protection,” Dean scoffed. “Is that what you’re calling it? She’s not safe with you.”

Bucky grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “The only one not safe here, is you.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent as he watched Bucky leave your room. He waited a moment to make sure he wasn’t coming back before pulling out his phone and searching his contacts. He let it ring, cursing under his breath when he was sent to voicemail. “Sammy, it’s me. Listen, I’m heading out tonight. If I don’t call you in the morning, something happened to me and that bastard Barnes is behind it. Y/N’s in danger here and I need to speak to her mom as soon as she gets back. If I can’t, I need you to come and get her out of here.”

He ended the call, drumming his fingers on his thigh for a moment. He hated the idea of leaving you, even if only for a while, but he decided it would be best for the time being. Resolved, he went to his own room to pack his things, intending to stay only long enough to say goodbye.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wanda smiled sympathetically as your body finally relaxed in the car. “They’re just jealous, Ptichka.”

“Of what?” you scoffed.

“Well, I’m sure Steve’s told you how closed off Bucky can be,” Nat offered, waiting for your nod to continue, “yet you two took to each other better than any of us could have predicted. And Dean’s been the dominant male figure in your life for a long time. Now they met and have to face the fact there’s someone else in the picture.”

“They’re protective of you. It’s sweet, but they need to give you room to breathe.”

Both women exchanged nervous looks when you only gazed out the window.

“Enough about them,” Natasha patted your leg comfortingly. “Let’s get something to drink before the movie, how’s that?”

You and Wanda agreed and she pulled into a spot by a cafe. After you ordered your drinks, you found an empty table to wait and chat about what you were going to do after the movie. A newspaper display caught your attention, and you took one, trying to place the familiar face on the front page.

“Oh I heard about that!” Wanda cried, pointing at the headline. “The guy didn’t even try to disarm the security system, but police were still too late to catch him.”

Nat went around to your side of the table and began reading over your shoulder. “A jewel thief, huh? Ballsy.” She started to snicker, and you and Wanda looked at her in confusion as she pointed to the caption beneath the picture. “His name’s Cletus.”

You snorted, while Wanda’s brow furrowed, not understanding what was so funny.

“I think I’ve seen him before,” you whispered. “He looks familiar, at least.”

“Yikes,” Nat smirked. “Did he have that giant, creepy grin then, too?”

“I think so? Maybe it’s that bright orange hair.”

You all laughed, but when your order was called, you forgot all about the robber and headed out, excited for what the night had in store.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You’d gotten enough food at the theater that getting dinner didn’t sound too appealing. So instead, you went to an ice cream parlor and ordered the biggest sundae they had. Wanda was the first to tap out, and though she’d made a decent dent in it, there was still a mountain of deliciousness you and Nat needed to tackle. By the end, you were both so stuffed you groaned when you got up, making Wanda laugh.

After a short walk around a nearby park, you headed back to the tower for the night. You were glad it was getting late, and likely wouldn’t have to deal with Dean and Bucky until the morning. You said your goodbyes to the girls when the elevator reached your floor, and dragged your feet toward your room.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Dean greeted when you walked through the door.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room for Bucky, relaxing when he wasn’t there. “Hey Dean. Why are you dressed?” you asked, noting he wasn’t in pajamas.

“Uh, I’m taking off.”

“Now?” Your eyes widened and your chest tightened. You knew he had already extended his stay, but you had hoped he’d give you more of a heads up before leaving.

“Yeah. Bobby needs me back at the garage,” he lied. “I’ll visit again soon, alright?”

“Alright,” you sighed defeatedly. “I’ll walk you to the garage.”

The elevator ride was quiet, and the air thick with tension. You focused on Dean’s scent, and how his presence felt beside you as you tried stealing casual glances, noticing he was doing the same. A few times, he inhaled sharply as if he was going to speak, but he remained silent. When the doors opened, you both stepped out reluctantly, and slowly made your way to his car. He looked it over, inspected the underside and the doors before opening it. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but he turned to you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen, I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

He bit his lip and looked away nervously for a moment before gazing intently into your eyes. “I need you to be careful. I mean, really careful. Especially with Barnes.”

“Dean!”

“Just, please!” he pleaded. “I know he’s made this crap situation bearable for you but… there’s something not quite right about the guy.”

You pulled away, feeling betrayed and not bothering to hide it. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like him! You never gave each other a chance!”

He pursed his lips, knowing he couldn’t argue. He’d seen the papers, and didn’t like how close the two of you appeared. When he decided to pay a visit, his unease grew the more you talked about him, confirming his suspicion that Bucky was getting dangerously attached to you. When he was finally confronted with the man himself, Dean wondered how it was no one else saw how possessive he seemed to be growing over you.

“Please,” he whispered. “Just take care of yourself, ok?”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But next time you visit, you give him a chance. A real one. I’ll ask him do to the same.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I uh, I gotta go.” Ignoring your disappointment, he gave you a quick hug and kiss to your forehead. “See you later, Sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

He got into the car and started it, and you exchanged tight smiles before he drove off. You waited until he was out of sight, and headed back to the elevator. Despite feeling awful over the conversation you just had, you missed him already, and couldn’t wait until you saw him again. When the doors opened on your floor, Bucky was standing right outside, looking relieved to find you alone.

“There you are,” he sighed.

“Dean’s gone,” you muttered, eyes downcast.

Bucky cocked a brow. “That was sudden.”

“Well, I can’t exactly blame him for not feeling welcome, can I?”

He winced at your tone, but didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, but he just rubs me the wrong way.”

“I get it,” you snapped. “You don’t have to like each other, but you could’ve at least been civil!” Now it was Bucky’s turn to look at the floor. “Just please, try to be polite next time?”

His head snapped up. “Next time?”

“Yeah, he said he’ll be coming back. And I don’t want you guys fighting the whole time again. Please?”

Bucky pressed the button for the elevator, stepping inside as soon as it opened. “You should get to bed. You have school in the morning.”

You glared at him, neither averting your gaze until the doors closed. Angry that both men had dismissed you, you stomped to your room and flopped down on the couch to watch something you hoped would calm you. Eventually, you fell into an uneasy sleep that was interrupted by your ringing phone. It was your general ringtone, and though you normally would’ve ignored it, your mother was still on assignment. On the off-chance it was her, calling from a phone other than hers for whatever reason, you reached for it.

“Hello?” you answered groggily.

 _“Y/N?”_ an unsure voice replied.

“Yeah?”

 _“Oh, thank god,”_ the voice sounded relieved. _“I wasn’t sure it was the right number. It’s Sam. Winchester. Dean’s brother?”_

You pulled the phone away, giving it a brief, puzzled look. You’d met Sam several times over the years, but you never engaged in much more than polite small talk. “Hey Sam, what’s up?”

 _“I’m sorry for calling so late…early… whatever. It’s Dean,”_ he said gravely, causing you to perk up a bit. _“He’s in the hospital.”_

* * *

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader goes to the hospital to find out what happened to Dean. 
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of gun violence, injuries, and hospitals.

“What?” you croaked, feeling like the air had been sucked from your lungs. “What happened?”

“ _All they would tell me over the phone was that he was admitted with gunshot wounds. The earliest available flight to New York is tomorrow morning. Will you go find out and call me?_ ”

“Yes, of course.” You ran to your desk and grabbed a pen, writing the address of the hospital on your arm. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

“ _Thank you, Y/N. Be careful._ ”

“I will.”

You hung up and stuffed the phone in your pocket as you reached for your shoes, stumbling a little as you put them on. You could barely hear yourself breathe over the pounding of your heart as you ran to the elevator, pushing the button for Bucky’s floor. Fleeting doubt gave you pause when the doors opened, but you were sure Bucky wouldn’t turn you away just because of his dislike of Dean.

“Bucky?” you knocked on his door. There was no answer. You knocked harder. “Bucky!” You didn’t hear anything on the other side of his door. “Where’s Bucky?” you turned up to the ceiling.

“Sergeant Barnes is in the gym, Miss,” FRIDAY replied.

She hadn’t finished speaking when you ran back to the elevator, pushing the button about 20 times before the doors opened.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Tony asked, alarmed by your panicked state. “FRIDAY said you were distressed, I was on my way t-”

“I need to go to the hospital!” you interrupted.

His eyes scanned you, searching for injury. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s Dean. He’s here,” you rushed, showing him the address on your arm.

Tony nodded, pushing the button for the garage. “No stops,” he commanded when another floor’s number lit up. In the garage, he grabbed the keys for the nearest car and waited just long enough for you to buckle up before speeding toward the hospital.

When you got there, no one would tell you anything because you weren’t family. It took nearly 20 minutes of Tony talking, annoying the nurse before she relented and sent for the surgeon.

Tony took note of how tense you were, and hesitantly reached out, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. You leaned into it, and though he knew the move was unconscious, he took it and slid his arm across to your other shoulder, pulling you close. He tried to tell you it would be alright, that Dean was a strong person, but you gave no indication of having heard any of it.

When the surgeon appeared and asked if you were there for Dean, you both shot to your feet. She told you he’d been shot three times, one of the bullets piercing a lung, another his stomach, and the last nicked an artery. He had also hit his head in the fall, causing some minor swelling in his brain. He was in surgery for several hours, and had lost a lot of blood, and they were keeping him in an induced coma to help with the swelling. All that was left to do was to wait.

“Would you like to see him?”

“Yes,” Tony quickly replied.

She led you to his room, and you choked back a sob when you saw him on the bed, tubes coming out all over him. After making sure you didn’t have any more questions, the surgeon left to resume her duties.

“I have to call Sam,” you whispered.

Tony frowned. “Sam?”

“His brother.”

Tony followed you out, watching you shakily fumble with the phone, nearly dropping it. With a sympathetic look, he gently pried it from your hands and began to search.

“Is he in your contacts?”

You shook your head. “Just click on the last call logged.” He did, and put it up to his ear, handing it back over when it started to ring. “Sam?” you asked when he picked up.

You told him everything the surgeon told you, and he thanked you over and over again for being there for Dean. Then he cleared his throat, sounding even more serious than before and asked if anyone was with you.

“Yeah, my… Tony’s with me.”

“ _Tony,_ ” he repeated. “ _Good, that’s good. Listen, can you stay with Dean until I get there?_ ”

He started to apologize, to offer explanations on why he didn’t want his brother to be alone, but you didn’t need them. “I’m not leaving him,” you assured, the image of his near lifeless body now ingrained in your mind. “Be safe, Sam, but please hurry.”

He said he would, and thanked you again before ending the call.

Tony gestured for you to head back inside, saying he’d follow in a few minutes. “I have to call your mom and then your school to excuse your absence.”

You nodded your thanks, and slowly headed back toward Dean’s room. You already knew what was inside, but afraid nonetheless to see him so helpless again. Stepping inside the room, you hesitated, wondering if you would be impeding the medical staff if you sat right beside him.

Deciding you could always move when they came to check on him, you dragged the chair to his side and lay your head by his shoulder, gently interlocking your fingers with his. With all your obligations met, you finally broke down.

When Tony returned, he set his own chair beside yours and rubbed your back as you cried. He let you wear yourself out, staying silent until only weak sniffles were coming from you.

“I called Sam back. Found out where he was and hired a jet for him. He’ll be here in a few hours.” Not trusting you had much of a voice left, you nodded. “Your mom’s going to be a few days, though. Apparently, she’s a day’s trek into some jungle, but the nice young man I spoke to said he’d head out to find her right away.”

“Thank you.”

Had he not watched your mouth move, he’d have doubted you said anything at all. “No problem.”

You sat in silence waiting. Just waiting. A nurse came in to check Dean’s vitals, and after assuring you you were fine where you were, told you he was doing as well as can be expected before leaving to continue his rounds.

The whole thing had taken a lot out of you, and you ended up falling asleep. Tony watched you, wondering if he would ever be able to make up for the way they uprooted you. He was so excited to meet you and take that plunge into fatherhood, that he completely failed to comprehend it meant he had to put what was best for you first.

Though he’d been going to therapy and actually trying to be understanding, it twisted his insides when he realized the best person to be by your side right now wasn’t him, but Bucky. He would know what to say, or not say, how to comfort you and help you get through it should the worst happen. Teeth grinding, he slipped out of the room quietly and headed to the parking lot, ready to swallow his pride to ask his parents’ killer to help his child.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You woke up a couple of hours later, half hoping it had all been a bad dream. The too clean smell that invaded your nostrils, as well as the beeping sounds in the room, squashed that fantasy. You looked up at Dean, knowing there wouldn’t be any change, but hoping nonetheless.

“The nurse came earlier.”

Your head whirled at hearing Bucky’s voice, and you felt more at ease. “Did they say anything?”

“He’s the same as last time.” You whimpered, and he pulled you toward him. “Hey, look at me. He’s not gettin’ worse. That’s somethin’ to be glad of, alright?”

“How?” your lip began to quiver, and you quickly rubbed the forming tears from your eyes. “What if he doesn’t get better?”

He hugged you, rubbing your back softly as you began to cry again. “Come on, Doll, you think he wants to wake up to anything other than your pretty, smiling face?” he tried to joke.

“That’s too baaaaaad,” you wailed, making Bucky chuckle before pulling away.

“I know. Tony’s callin’ in a team of specialists to take care of ‘im, but you can’t give up, understand?” You nodded, and he smiled “Good. Now, I brought you some clothes and things, I’m gonna go get you some food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but I’m bringin’ it anyway, and your gonna eat a little. Even if it’s just toast.”

You watched him leave with a soft smile on your face. It’d been a while since all you could stomach was toast, and it warmed your heart he remembered. Taking a deep breath, you turned to Dean and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing the bag Bucky brought, you headed toward the restroom to change and freshen up. You brushed your teeth and washed the tears away before changing out of your pajamas and heading back to the room.

Not long after you settled back in, there was a soft knock in the doorway.

“Y/N… oh my god,” Sam covered his mouth, eyes watering at the sight of his brother barely hanging by a thread.

You walked over to Sam and wrapped your arms around him, letting him return the gesture as his body began to shake. You offered him your seat beside Dean, and took the one Tony and Bucky had occupied, sitting in silence as Sam wrapped his head around the situation.

“Have the police come by to question anyone yet?”

“Here? No. I don’t know about the tower, though.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He didn’t believe Dean at first when he said there was cause to be concerned about your friendship with Bucky, but now here he was, possibly dying just like he said might happen. Even so, what was he to do? Dean wanted him to take you and run, but he didn’t like the idea. It was kidnapping, technically, but aside from that, taking you would leave him alone and vulnerable.

“When’s you mom getting here?” he finally asked.

“Tony said it’s gonna be a few days. Why?”

Again, though he looked troubled, he stayed quiet. Silence overtook you again, as Sam seemed a bit lost in his own head.

“Hey, I got your-”

Sam leaped from his chair, sending it crashing to the floor as he moved to stand in front of you.

Bucky reached behind him for his gun, stopping only when you spoke.

“It’s ok, Sam, it’s Bucky. Buck, this is Dean’s brother, Sam.”

Bucky relaxed and stepped forward, hand outstretched. Sam didn’t take it, only moving when Bucky tried to look around him at you.

“What are you doing here?” he spat.

Bucky was taken aback at his rudeness, and lifted the takeout bag he held. “Just brought the kid some food. She’s been here all morning.”

You stood from the chair and made to approach Bucky, but Sam held his arm out to stop you.

“Sam?”

The behavior was unlike him, but you supposed it was the stress of the situation. He only glared at Bucky, which was beginning to make him angry, too. A knock on the doorframe caught everyone’s attention as another nurse stepped inside.

“Sorry,” she said, eyes barely leaving her clipboard. “Only two at a time, please.”

“I’ll be outside,” Bucky growled. “Need to make a call.” He left your food by the door and walked out.

You tried to follow, but Sam still wouldn’t let you pass. The nurse didn’t give any new information, so you both said your thanks and waited quietly until she left. As soon as she was gone, Sam went to the door and closed it.

“Do you know where everyone was last night?” he asked gruffly.

“What do you mean?”

He walked back toward you, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you in the eye. “Did anyone leave the tower after Dean left?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.”

“When was the last time you saw… anyone?”

“Uh, maybe just before 10? I saw Dean off and then ran into Bucky on my floor before going to bed.”

“Where did Bucky go after that?”

Your brow furrowed at the question. “The gym, I guess. That’s where he was when you called.” You were growing concerned at the crazed look in his eye. “Why are you asking me his whereabouts?”

Sam sighed, and gestured for you to sit, kneeling in front of you when you did so. “I… I didn’t want to believe it.” He reached for his phone and dialed his voicemail, turning on the speaker.

It started off normally, and you were wondering where he was going with it until…

“ _…something happened to me and that bastard Barnes is behind it._ ”

Sam took your hand as Dean’s message played. By the end, you were gaping at him, your eyes begging for an explanation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it like this.”

“No,” you protested, shaking your head. “He wouldn’t. Why would he think Bucky would hurt him? Hurt me?”

“Dean’s been worried about you for a while now. And he told me how hostile Barnes has been toward him.”

“But he wouldn’t hurt him!” you shouted. “Bucky, he… if he wanted Dean dead, he’d  _BE_  dead!”

“But then it’d be obvious, wouldn’t it?” His heart felt heavy when you tried and failed to come up with an answer to that. “It’s too coincidental, Y/N.”

It was too much. You knew Bucky wouldn’t do such a thing, but you couldn’t fathom why Dean would say he would. Your blood began to boil, and you turned your angry gaze on Sam. With everything you had, you shoved him, sending him to the floor and you bolted out the door. Ignoring his shouts to stop, you made your way to the front door, where you saw Bucky speaking angrily into his phone.

He caught sight of you and hung up, alarmed at your frantic state.

“What happe-”

“Tell me it wasn’t you!” you demanded.

“What?” He stayed frozen on the spot as your figure stomped toward him.

“Dean! Tell me you didn’t do this to him!” Your determination faltered, your rage leaving you as quickly as it came, and you felt yourself begin to crumble. “Please,” you begged weakly. “Please.”

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the few people Reader trusts is lying. But who?

Bucky gaped at you, unable to find words. His eyes snapped toward the hospital’s doors, gaze turning murderous at the figure stumbling out of them.

“Did you tell her that?!” he spat.

“Get away from him,” Sam warned. “Please, come here.”

Even though you didn’t make a move, Bucky grabbed your arm, being careful not to hold too tight. “She’s not goin’ anywhere.”

Sam ignored him, keeping his pleading eyes on you. “You know something’s not adding up.”

“Hey, you talk to _me!_ ” Bucky let you go, and stepped into Sam’s personal space.

You didn’t hear much of what either man said. Your mind was stuck on one thing; Bucky wasn’t denying it. 

Taking advantage of neither man watching you, you walked away, getting into the first cab you came upon. “Take me to the beach.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care, just go, please.”

The driver took off, and you were well aware he’d take you to the furthest one he could get away with to run the meter. It didn’t matter, though. It’s not like you had anywhere to be. You reached for your phone, though you weren’t sure why. Your mom was unreachable, you still haven’t said much to Melissa, Dean was unconscious, and everyone else would just tell you to go back to the tower.

“You’re Stark’s kid, aren’t you?” the driver asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Oh… no.”

“Sure ya are!” he grinned. “What’s it like in that big tower?”

“Cold.”

“Oh, come on!” he pressed. “It must be exciting going from your little town to living with superheroes in one of the swankiest buildings in New York.”

You sighed and leaned your head against the window. You should have gotten in the second cab.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

When they noticed you were gone, Sam was the only one who grew worried.

“Dammit,” Bucky grumbled under his breath. Without another look at Sam, he sent Steve a text before climbing on his motorcycle and taking off to find you.

He knew there were only a handful of places you could be, and even though your biggest threat was hospitalized, he asked Steve for backup.

Sam watched him disappear in the distance, unsure of what to do. Now that Bucky knew he was onto him, it made things trickier. You were in even more danger now, but so was Dean.

“Sir?” a nurse called from the door. “I need you to fill out some paperwork for Mr. Winchester.”

He was out of time, and now he had to choose: you or Dean.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the nurse standing there, giving him an expectant look. He sighed, muttering apologies under his breath. “Yeah, I’ll be in in a minute. I just need to make a call.” The nurse nodded and headed back inside.

He pulled out his phone and accessed his call log, knowing Dean would be furious with him when he woke up. But he’d take an angry Dean over a dead one any day. And anyway, it wasn’t as if he was going to leave you helpless.

_“Winchester?”_

The voice caught him off guard, pulling him from his thoughts. “Hey, Tony.”

 _“Something wrong?”_  he asked.  _“How’s Dean?”_

“Something’s wrong,” he said. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. He was your step-father, so he would take action against any threat to you, wouldn’t he? Even if it was against a teammate? “But it’s not with Dean.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The cabbie hadn’t stopped talking. Luckily, he didn’t seem to require any input from you. As he droned on, you thought about Dean. Why hadn’t he said anything before the night he left? What had happened that he’d been telling Sam something was wrong that he couldn’t tell you?

And while you couldn’t see Bucky hurting anyone outside of a mission, you couldn’t shake the fact he said nothing against the accusation. There had to have been more to it than you understood, but whether it was Dean or Bucky keeping it from you was still unclear.

“Here we are!” the cabbie announced. “On the house!”

Your heart stopped when you looked out the window. “This is the tower… I asked-”

“I know what you asked,” he interrupted. “I also know teenagers quite well, having raised five of them myself. Running ain’t the answer, kid. Now go and fix whatever’s bothering you.”

You groaned, making the man chuckle. “Thanks a lot.”

“Aw it ain’t so bad. Things’ll work out, you’ll see.”

With a huff, you exited the cab and entered the lobby just as Wilson was stepping off the elevator.

“There you are!” He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Barnes just sent out a search party for you.”

“Well, I’m here.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you; I’m sorry about Dean.”

“Thanks, Sam 2.”

His brow furrowed. “Sam what?”

“Sam number 2. Dean’s brother’s named Sam so it’s just easier for me to refer to you as Sam and Sam 2.”

“Why isn’t he Sam 2?” he demanded, feigning offense.

You shrugged. Honestly, you just wanted to annoy him. You still hadn’t gotten over how he tried to befriend you, despite keeping crucial information regarding your life from you. “I’ve known him longer.”

Sam’s phone went off. “He says I’m to take you for ice cream and wait til he gets there. Think you can not run off on the way?”

You rolled your eyes and followed him out the door. All the while he tried to convince you why he should be the original Sam. Eventually, you tuned out. He noticed, but didn’t really seem to mind. He did grow confused, however, when you tensed when Bucky walked in. He wanted to ask what was going on, but Bucky nodded toward the door, dismissing him.

Bucky took the chair opposite you, eyeing your mostly uneaten, melting sundae. He took the spoon from your hand and began to eat it himself. After a few spoonfuls, he pushed it back toward you.

“Why’d you leave?” he asked sternly. “You know you’re not to wander the city alone.” You didn’t respond. You wouldn’t even look at him, and it made his heart ache. What had Dean told you? How involved was Sam? “Y/N,” his voice softened. “I didn’t hurt Dean.”

You breath hitched, and you finally looked up at him. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “I swear it.”

You wanted to believe him, desperately so, but why was Dean so convinced he would? “Sam said…” you stopped, looking around for eavesdroppers.

Bucky caught on and stood. “Let’s talk back at the tower.” He held his hand out for you, and his chest tightened when you hesitated. Just what had Sam said? He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he released it when you placed your hand in his.

You were both silent as you walked back to the tower. Bucky tried to prepare himself for whatever you were about to say, unsure of how much he should reveal regarding what he’d found about Dean. Would you even believe him? He hoped so.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

_**“… found dead in Central Park Lagoon.”** _

Tony had the news playing in the background as he brewed some coffee. After leaving you at the hospital, he had returned to the tower expecting to get some work done, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus. A familiar story came on, and he left the kitchen, turning up the volume as he watched.

_**“…left the victim of a gas station shooting early this morning in critical condition. Police are asking if anyone has any information, to please call…”** _

“A city where there’s always someone in your business and no one saw a thing?” he scoffed. “FRIDAY, get me all the surveillance footage from here to that gas station and all surrounding areas.”

“Distance?”

“Let’s say three miles.”

“On it.”

He turned his attention back to the tv. The segment regarding Dean was over, and now there was a crying woman on screen. Sighing, he headed back to the kitchen to wait for his coffee.

No matter what they did, or how hard they tried to make the world safe, it wasn’t enough. He had hoped the Avengers would inspire others to do their part to make things better for everyone, but as he listened to the woman describe the carnage she walked in on at a small diner not far from the tower, he was growing afraid it would be nothing more than a pipe dream.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, and he recognized the number. “Winchester?” he answered.

_“Hey, Tony.”_

Last he heard, Sam had made it to the hospital just fine. “Something wrong? How’s Dean?” There was a short pause on Sam’s end, and Tony poured his coffee as he waited.

_“Something’s wrong, but it’s not with Dean.”_

He set his mug down, unsure if he was ready for whatever he was about to hear. “Well don’t leave me in suspense here.”

_“You’re not going to like what I have to say, but I need you to listen, alright? A while back, Dean raised some concerns he had over Sergeant Barnes. And, in light of recent events, I have reason to believe there was merit to his concerns.”_

A lump formed in Tony’s throat. “What sort of concerns?”

He listened as Sam recounted every instance Dean had some gripe against something he’d seen, whether it be news, a gossip piece, or public speculation. Sam admitted it was hard to avoid anything having to do with you since you’d left for New York, but that meant Dean only grew more and more uneasy.

Tony felt heavy in the pit of his stomach. He ground his teeth as Sam spoke, growing livid. The sound of a shattering dish momentarily snapped him from his anger.

_“What was that?”_

“Accident,” he said, eyeing the pieces of broken mug in his hand.  He rushed to the sink, hoping to alleviate the burn and stop the bleeding. “Are you sure?”

_“As sure as Dean is in this hospital.”_

He went to the freezer, grabbing some ice and wrapping it in a towel. “I’m going to send some guards for your brother, and I want you to come straight to the tower.”  Sam was about to protest, but he stopped him. “I swear to you, your brother will be safe. I need you here. I need you to take her while I take care of Barnes.”

Sam stayed silent for a moment.  _“Alright. I’ll be over soon.”_

Tony hung up, and called for Happy to send some security to the hospital. He rushed to elevator and asked to be taken to your floor, not hesitating to walk into your room. The first thing he noticed were the flowers. He pulled out his phone again and dialed Pepper.

“Pep, did you send Y/N flowers?”

 _“Hello to you, too,”_ she chuckled.  _“No. I would have when she moved in, but she didn’t strike me as the flowers type.”_

“Thanks.” He hung up and looked around. “FRIDAY, where would she keep her personal things?”

“No surveillance in private quarters.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know. But, if you were a teenage girl, where would you hide your things? Does she keep a diary or anything?”

The AI started listing the most common places a diary would be hidden: under the pillow, under the mattress, behind the headboard, etc. He grimaced when she suggested your underwear drawer.

He pulled them open, finding the one in question. “I’m not being weird, ok? You told me to look here.” He kept his eyes on the pictures on your dresser as he blindly felt around for something resembling a book. His gaze fell on a few pictures of you and your mom, a couple of you and some friends he couldn’t recall the names of, some with Dean, and to his displeasure, many with Bucky. “Nothing,” he snapped, slamming the drawer closed.

He searched your desk, under your bed, and your bookshelves, not making much of an effort to return everything as it was. When he found the stash of cards and letters, he thought he hit the jackpot, but as he read one after the other, there really wasn’t anything there. There certainly wasn’t anything incriminating Bucky anywhere.

His eyes scanned the room, and he scoffed at the book Bucky had given you. You had it on a stand on its own shelf, like a trophy. He grabbed it and sat on your bed, and began reading the first few pages. Again, he kicked himself for not getting you the book before.

As he went to return it to its stand, he tripped over a box he didn’t shove all the way back under the bed. The book went tumbling across the floor, and he cringed at the thought of dented corners. He picked it up and examined it, hoping it wasn’t too damaged, when he noticed a small slip of paper peeking out from between the pages.

Tony tried not to get his hopes up. It was an old book, and the handwritten note could have been anyone’s. Except, it was addressed to you. He read it several times, growing more furious with every re-read.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s just stepped into the building.”

“And Barnes?”

“With her.”

“Get my suit.”

FRIDAY hesitated, but dispatched the suit regardless. It had just encased him when the elevator’s bell dinged, and he faced his blaster to the doors.

You froze, but Bucky quickly pulled you behind him. “What the hell, Stark?! It’s us!”

“Step away from her, now,” he demanded. “Y/N, go to your room and lock the door.”

“N-no!” You gathered enough courage to step from behind Bucky. “What’s going on?!”

“That wasn’t a request.”

“Is that my book? Were you in my room?!”

Tony kept his blaster trained on Bucky as he advanced. He tossed the book to him and grabbed your arm before yanking you out of the elevator. “GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

He shoved you hard enough to make you stumble, and you looked back at them in confusion. Tony was still ready to attack, but Bucky only stared at the book in his hands.

“Do as he says, Y/N.,” he swallowed thickly. When you tried to protest, he mustered up an unconvincing smile. “It’s ok, Doll. Go to your room.”

* * *

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finally speaks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SOOOOOO sorry for making you guys wait TWO FREAKEN MONTHS for an update. D:   
> I hope you like it.  
> And like, sorry again because daaamn. It's been a long time.

You looked back at Bucky as you were about to turn onto the hallway that led to your room, only moving forward when he again gestured for you to leave. The door swung open, and your worry was replaced with anger when you saw the state of your bedroom. You had half a mind to go back and demand to know why Tony had gone through your things, but Bucky hadn’t wanted you in the room. You had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wondered if it had anything to do with what Sam had told you.

Doing as asked, you shut the door behind you and locked it. You pulled your phone out and noticed several messages and missed calls from Peter. Ignoring them for the time being, you started scrolling through your contacts, pausing briefly when his name came up. You were tempted to call, and had it been anyone else confronting Bucky, you would have.

“He’d just make excuses for Tony,” you muttered, scrolling past. You found the name you wanted and pressed it, hoping he wasn’t too busy to pick up.

 _“Hey, Y/N!”_  Steve greeted cheerfully.

“Bucky’s in trouble,” you blurted, forgoing niceties. “Tony’s armed and  _super_  pissed at him.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Neither man said a word as you reluctantly shuffled to your room, waiting until they heard the bolt lock to speak.

“Anything you wanna say to me, Barnes?”

“Not here. She might be listening at the door.”

He hesitated, knowing Bucky would be more of a challenge in close quarters. “I think not.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he ignored Tony’s scoff, “but I have an idea and I just don’t want her scared. Nothing funny. You have my word.”

“Your word means  _nothing_. FRIDAY, if he tries anything, sound the alarm.”

“… Of course. Where to?”

“The holding cells.”

Bucky stepped back into the corner, trying to appear passive. Tony entered, sticking to the opposite corner and growing tense when the doors closed behind him.

“What’s this about?” he gestured to the book.

“You don’t get to ask questions!” Tony snapped. “What’s wrong with you?!”

Bucky was tired. Almost tired enough to tell Tony everything on the spot.  _Almost_. “I need you to tell me first why we have this. Please, it’s important.”

He sighed, his helmet retracting, but his blaster still aimed at his chest. “About two-thirds in, I found your note.”

“What note?” Alarmed, Bucky immediately began flipping through the pages until he came across the slip of paper.

“I’m not buying your little act.”

“Shut up!” he hissed, skimming the letter. “Something’s off…”

Tony rolled his eyes, growing tired of the charade. “No shi-”

“No, you don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense…” Bucky turned to him, his eyes begging. “We need to go to my room. I have something to show you.”

 _“Stark! What are you doing? Buck, are you alright?”_  Steve’s frantic voice came from the speaker.

“Not for long,” Tony said. “Why don’t you ask your buddy what he’s been up to? What plans he had for my daughter?”

“ _What are you talking about?”_

“I didn’t write this,” Bucky defended. “But I know who did. Steve, go to my room. In the closet, I have a cardboard box with various items. Bring it to the holding cells.”

Bucky waited for Tony to step out and get some distance before making a move. He went in the direction Tony gestured, hoping Steve would hurry.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Satisfied with the armed guards stood outside Dean’s room and patrolling the hospital grounds, Sam returned to the tower and was promptly led toward the elevator. The guard informed FRIDAY that he was to be taken to Tony, and went back to his duties, leaving Sam alone.

When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, he made to step out, but was stopped by FRIDAY.

“This isn’t your stop, Mr. Winchester.”

“Winchester?” the man who stepped inside asked. “Relative of Dean’s?”

Sam would recognize Captain America anywhere, and had the situation been any different, he’d have been ecstatic to meet him. “Yeah, he’s my brother,” he replied coldly.

And, had the situation been any different, Steve would’ve made more of an effort to be polite. “I wish him a speedy recovery.”

He couldn’t stop the words from spilling. “Do you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” Sam shrugged, “things won’t be so good for your friend when Dean wakes up, will they?”

“Your floor, Mr. Winchester,” FRIDAY said, interrupting their chat.

Sam stormed out, not giving the man following him a second glance as he approached Tony and Bucky. The latter was sitting calmly in a cell as Tony paced.

“Here are the things you asked for, Buck.” Steve dropped the box at Tony’s feet, glaring at him. “Explain.”

“Not yet,” Nat’s voice rang from the stairs.

Tony huffed in annoyance. “What are you doing here, Romanoff?”

“Steve called for backup.” She pulled up a chair and settled in, crossing her arms. “ _Now_ explain.”

“Barnes has been planning to elope with Y/N.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were!” Tony snapped, handing the letter to Natasha. “Read that for Cap and Sam.”

She frowned, but did as asked.

“ ** _‘My pretty little Y/N,_**

**_It’s time. You looked uncomfortable in the purple ball gown. Did you enjoy my gifts? They’re perfect aren’t they? I’m tired of the secrecy and I can see you are too. We know we belong together. Who would’ve guessed your coming to New York would change everything? Are you free on Thursday? I can buy us an island where no one will find us. Pack the black shorts with the ladybugs on them. Skip school on Thursday and meet me at that diner you love. Why wait any lon-’_ **

You think Bucky wrote this? Tony, this is all over the place. Whoever wrote it, their mind is scattered.”

“Well, do we know for certain Frosty here’s not still got something scrambled in there.”

“That’s enough, Tony!” Steve barked.

“It’s true.” All eyes turned to Sam. “And Dean found out, didn’t he? That’s why you shot him.” He didn’t wait for anyone to respond before playing the voicemail Dean left.

Slowly, everyone’s gazes shifted to Bucky. “I- I didn’t. I was in the tower all night.”

“Can you prove it?” Steve asked, desperation in his voice.

“FRIDAY, can you corroborate Barnes regarding his whereabouts last night?”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff.” Several surveillance holograms appeared, each showing Bucky had indeed not left the tower.

Sam swallowed thickly. “Could he have altered the footage?”

“Not without me or Tony to help him, and I did no such thing.”

“Ok, so maybe he didn’t try to kill Dean,” Tony admitted, “but he still wrote that note!”

“Except this isn’t Bucky’s writing,” Nat persisted.

Tony scoffed. “Please. Aren’t you guys trained to disguise yourselves in every form? It was in the book he gave her!”

Nat didn’t have an answer for that, so she turned to Steve.

“Buck, how did that note get in there?”

Sam shook his head in disappointment at Steve’s willingness to turn a blind eye when it came to his oldest friend.

“The book wasn’t from me,” he admitted. “It was from Dean. Everything in that box, all the gifts, the flowers, that was all Dean.”

Natasha grabbed the box as Steve went to fetch a table.

“When the package came, you said it was meant as an apology.”

“I lied.”

“That’s convenient,” Sam muttered. “How do you explain the message he left?”

“To shift the blame!” Bucky turned his glare on Sam. “I wanted to confirm it was your brother sending it. And guess what? He was angry I’d taken the credit.”

“Do you hear yourself?! If he was angry it’s because he knew you were up to something!” He snatched the note from the top of the box Nat was holding and scanned it. “This isn’t Dean’s writing, either! And don’t tell me he could disguise it this well!”

“He coulda had someone else write it.”

“Or you could have.”

“Not helping right now, guys,” Nat called. “Let’s look this stuff over and see if we can’t find any clues.”

“Sir, Peter Parker wishes to speak to you.”

“Not now, FRIDAY.”

“He insists. He’s in distress.”

He really didn’t need anything else to distract him, but considering the near death experiences he had not long before, he agreed. “Alright, send him in,” he sighed.

Bucky could only watch from his cell as the others sifted through the items he’d collected, hoping they could find the connection he failed to. His mind wandered to you, and though he wanted to ask FRIDAY if you were alright, he refrained from doing so knowing it would anger Tony even more.

“Mr. Stark?” Only Bucky heard Peter call timidly.  “What’s going on?”

The boy’s face was splotched, his eyes red and glassy. You didn’t need to be a spy to see the boy had been crying. “What’s wrong?”

“Woah. Hey, Kid, are you hurt?” Tony stepped away from the table to approach Peter and look him over. “FRIDAY said you needed help.”

“I came to see if Y/N was ok, but FRIDAY said she was on lockdown. Why is Sergeant Barnes in a cell?”

Nat frowned at his statement. “Why were you worried about Y/N?”

“She wouldn’t answer the phone. I thought-” he choked out a sob as his eyes began to fill with tears again. “I was scared she’d been at the diner.”

“What diner?” Steve asked.

“She’s fine, Pete,” Tony soothed. “She’s in her room. What happened?”

Peter stared blankly at them. “Mr. and Mrs. Carr’s place. It’s all over the n-hews,” he sniffled. “She goes there all the time.”

Tony vaguely remembered some story he’d heard earlier, and his blood ran cold. “FRIDAY, who owned the place that was massacred earlier today?”

There was a silent moment while she searched for the information. “Sal and Barbara Carr.”

Steve grabbed the note. “ _‘Skip school on Thursday and meet me at that diner you love.’_  You can’t mean…”

Peter looked around at them all, confused. “What?”

“Dean’s been in a coma.” Sam turned to Bucky. “Where were you when I got there?”

“Getting her breakfast a couple blocks away from the hospital. The Carr’s place is on the other side of town.”

“So it couldn’t have been you.” Bucky shook his head in response. “Let him out, Stark,” Nat demanded. “What do you know about the people who attacked the place, Peter?”

“Nothing. Um, there hasn’t been a photo or composite done or anything like that, but a witness said it was one guy.”

Tony grabbed his shoulders firmly. “Are you sure? It wasn’t like a gang or some organization?”

Nat eased his grip off the boy. “Tony, if it were an organization, or anyone trying to get at you, they’ve had plenty of chances to take her.”

“Sir?” FRIDAY interrupted. “A composite sketch of the killer has been released.”

The hologram showed a sketch of man with unkempt hair and a large grin.

“Um, Mr. Stark?” Peter gaped at the image she’d brought up. “That’s the guy who pushed me off the platform at the station.”

All eyes turned to Peter,

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, turning back to the drawing. “Because that guy nearly hit me with his car on Y/N’s first day of school.”

“You mean intentionally?”

“Seems so if he went after you, too.”

Tony watched Peter’s reaction before taking another look at the composite. “So what, you’re saying it’s just some obsessed nutjob?”

“I think it is.” Nat glared at the image. “I have to go. I’ll call you when I get something.”

“Alright. Fine. One guy. I can handle that.” Tony unlocked Bucky’s cell, holding the door open for him as he stepped out. “Barnes, Winchester, come with me. Pete, you and Cap fill the others in. Find out everything you can about this psycho.”

In the elevator, Tony called Pepper to send for an ambulance, then called for your security team to meet in the garage.

“What’s your plan?” Sam asked.

“You’re leaving and taking her with you.” He stepped out of the garage, pleased to see the guards ready to get to work. “I need you all to take a drive.” He grabbed a set of keys and tossed them to a guard. “Winchester, you and Y/N will go with him to the compound upstate and wait there.”

“I’ll take her.”

“No, I need you to be my backup,” Tony said. “Where she goes, you follow. I need you to be seen far away from her.”

Bucky reluctantly followed him back into the elevator, his mind still trying to wrap around the situation. “You sure she’ll be safe?”

“Yeah,” he replied, not looking at him. “Once its released she’s been injured and taken to the hospital, he’ll be headed there while she’ll be headed upstate.”

He could feel the nervous energy radiating off him. He also figured he probably owed him an apology, but the thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Are ya gonna tell her?”

Tony rubbed the side of his face. He was tired, and he was afraid. And now he was about to ruin everything he’d been working for to build an amicable relationship with you. “No. You’re right, she’ll just get scared.” Bucky nodded, but stayed silent, and Tony should have felt a little bad. “You know what you have to do, don’t you? What this means?”

Bucky’s eyes darted to his feet, but again he nodded. “It means she’s gonna hate me.”

Tony instinctively reached out to give him a comforting pat, but pulled his hand back, scoffing internally. Instead, he offered,  “I wish there was another way.” And to his surprise, it sounded almost sincere.

The doors opened on your floor, and Bucky followed Tony out. The two took a deep breath, waiting for the other’s go ahead before knocking.

You flung the door open, and they pushed past you before you could feel any relief at seeing they weren’t about to fight anymore. Tony grabbed an empty bag from your closet, and Bucky was pulling everything out of your backpack.

“What was all that about earlier? Is everything alright? What are you doing?” You watched in horror as they began to fill the bags with the contents of your closet and dresser. “What the hell?!”

Neither of them said anything, just carried on packing as much as they could in the bags. You ran to Tony and tried to grab your bag from him, but he turned to keep you from grabbing it as he ignored your demands to know what was happening.

“Bucky,” you pleaded, running over to him and yanking the backpack from his grasp. “Bucky, please! Why are you doing this?!” His silence stung, but his sudden inability to even look at you was what really hurt. “Please, talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t understand.”

He took hold of the bag, but you weren’t going to let it go that easily. He tugged on it and turned, jolting you forward at an angle, and pushed you hard enough to send you stumbling against your bed. He zipped the bag and placed it by the door, grabbing another to fill, doing his best to ignore the betrayed look in your eyes.

When they’d gathered enough of your things, Tony grabbed your arm to lead you out.

“You’re going away for a while,” was all he supplied. “And I need your phone.”

“Like hell! You can’t take my phone!”

“I got it.” As soon as he spoke the words, you felt Bucky snatch it from your pocket and placed it in his own.

You knew you weren’t getting it back, no matter how hard you tried. Now you had no way to contact your mother. “My mom,” you swallowed back a lump. “Does… did she plan this with you? Was this always meant to be the arrangement?”

“Of course not!” Tony snapped, clearly offended at the insinuation. “You just can’t be here right now!”

“Why did you bring me here if you were just going to send me away?! If you were going to pull this shit, you could have just left me at home! I was happy there!” You yanked your arm from his grasp, turning to Bucky. “And what about you?” your voice cracked. “I thought we were friends…”

Bucky didn’t answer, and Tony ushered you into the elevator, the ride down to the garage quiet except for your occasional sniffle. You were taken to the car where Sam was waiting, and your bags were put in the trunk.

“Come on,” Sam opened the door for you, “get in the car.”

“I take it you’re not going to tell me anything either?” you snapped. “Do you eve-”

The sound of approaching sirens interrupted, and you turned to the others for an explanation when an ambulance drove into the garage. You began to grow concerned when Bucky shoved your backpack into your arms and pushed you into the car, blocking your view of the vehicle.

It wasn’t long until the ambulance returned, speeding past your car as it left the building. Tony made a call as Bucky blocked the door, and Sam climbed into the seat beside you. Tony stayed on the phone for nearly half an hour, but you couldn’t hear a word of it.

“Come on, Barnes, we need to go to the hospital!” he called after hanging up.

Bucky took a last glance back at you, only vaguely making out your angry face behind the tinted window. You opened your backpack as the car started and made its way to the exit, hoping your earbuds were left inside. Though you didn’t have anything to plug them into, you hoped they’d be enough to let Sam know you were in no mood to speak to him. There was a picture frame at the top. Though the car was moving and you were already halfway outside, you swung the door open, causing the car to stop and Sam to reach out to grab you, but he was too late.

Tony’s car screeched to a halt just behind yours, but it was Bucky who stepped out.

“Get back in the car!” he ordered.

His tone stopped you in your tracks. He’d never shouted at you before, and it only made you angrier. Rather than hand him the frame back like you’d intended, you threw it at his feet, shattering the glass.

“You’re an asshole! I never want to see you again!” Without waiting for a response, you climbed back into the car, allowing it to take you wherever it was meant to.

Tony watched Bucky stare after your car as it drove away, only pulling the photo from the broken frame once it was out of sight. He got in the car and shoved it into the glove compartment before Tony could see it, and they headed toward the hospital.

“Think anyone saw her?” he asked, forcing his voice to be steady.

“No,” Tony assured him. “Even if they did, the guy’s probably already halfway to the hospital anyway.”

Bucky hummed in understanding, hoping he was right. The rest of the trip was made in silence, the tension growing thicker with every minute that passed.

He dropped Bucky off at the front of the ER, where there was already press waiting. That was the plan; to be seen there so everyone and the crazy man would think that’s where you were as you were taken elsewhere.

Tony parked the car, and didn’t hesitate to open the glovebox to see what you’d thrown at Bucky. He pulled out the photo and stared.

You were wearing one of his helmets. Not Bucky’s tactical gear, or Sam’s wings, or holding Steve’s shield, but  _his_  helmet. You held a ridiculously heroic pose as Bucky lay on the floor, trying and failing to hide his amusement.

The jealousy he’d come to expect didn’t wash over him as it usually did. Instead, he was filled with a sadness over your having lost yet another person you trusted. He even felt a little guilty over making Bucky betray you like he did. He could have had anyone else go with him to gather your things, but the sick satisfaction he thought he’d get over watching your bond sever was too much to resist.

Tony stuffed the picture back in the glove box, and started walking toward the entrance. With every step, his resolve grew; when this was over and you were safe, he’d apologize to Bucky. Maybe he’d even begin to try to make amends with him.

“FRIDAY, tell the others to suit up and start searching the area.”

“On it!”

“Alright, you bastard,” he murmured as the reporters waved him over. “Let’s see you try to come for her now.”

* * *

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A distraction puts Reader in danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of blood and violence, creepiness.
> 
> A/N: I have about 1/3 of the next part written. Please pray to the old gods and the new I can get it to you soon!

 

You’d heard on the radio what had happened at the Carr’s place, but both Sam and the driver refused to take you anywhere near it. Having an inkling that was why Peter had blown your phone up, you asked Sam to borrow his to call him, but he’d said no and advised you drop the subject. Since you were currently stopped at a red light, you figured you could make a run for it and find out yourself. Sam grabbed your arm as you reached for the door, but when you pulled the handle, you found the driver had activated the child locks to keep you from repeating what you’d done in the garage of the tower.

Sam tried to engage you, to assure you that whatever was going on would blow over and you’d be back home before you knew it, but you weren’t having it. You stared out the window, trying your best to tune him out. He gave up eventually, sighing an apology that sounded tired, but sincere.

You don’t know how long you’d sat in silence, or what caused you to hit your head against the window as it shattered. You couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears, and you could barely make anything out as your vision blurred. Turning toward Sam, you saw he was cradling his arm as blood trickled down the side of his face.

Just behind him, it looked like a car was on fire, and vague, people shaped silhouettes were running around. The air around you became thick, making it harder to breathe as you were becoming surrounded by black smoke.

You didn’t notice the door beside you open, but you did feel Sam’s blood covered hand take yours for a moment. His grip was slippery, and you were easily pulled from the car and out of his reach.  

When you tried to look around, a hand pushed the side of your face into their body as the other arm wrapped around your back to keep you upright. You didn’t fight it. Your head was still spinning so much you had no idea who had pulled you from the car or where they were leading you.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tony had counted on the suspect hanging around the hospital, but when he saw the smoke, and the reporters packing up, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He told the others to stay and keep looking while he investigated, and he’d call them if it was serious.

Now as he stood among the rubble, staring at his totaled car in a daze, he feared he’d underestimated the guy. The knot in his stomach grew tighter with every step he took, dreading what he would find inside. Ignoring the commotion around him, he weaved through the sea of destruction and held his breath as he pulled the door off its hinge. Sam was unconscious, barely breathing. The driver wasn’t so lucky.

“I need a stretcher over here!” he called to the nearest paramedics. They rushed their way over, ready to assess if it was safe to even move them. “Hey, did you guys pull a girl out of here already?”

“No, sir. This car hasn’t been searched yet.”

The police had told him a car rigged with explosives was crashed on the intersection, but he still had a small sliver of hope that it was nothing more than some horrible coincidence.

“Guys,” he spoke into his comm, “I need you on the scene. Just follow the smoke.”

“What about the search?” Wanda asked.

He noticed something in Sam’s hand as he was wheeled past, and stopped them long enough to take it. It was a blood stained, crumpled piece of paper, with the same writing as the note that was in the book.

_**Thank you** _

Tony felt like he was free falling to Earth all over again. The plan had been a failure, and now you were nowhere in sight.

“He’s not there. He got her.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You groaned as you slowly began to regain consciousness. Every part of you was in pain, the throbbing in your head almost unbearable. The light in the room, though dim, was still far too bright for your sensitive state. That didn’t stop them from flying open when you head an unfamiliar voice speaking from somewhere uncomfortably close.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” he tittered at his own joke.

A stranger’s face greeted you, smiling and lying only inches from yours. As much as it hurt, you scrambled away from the man. The bed you were on wasn’t very large, and a blinding pain shot throughout your body when you found yourself on the cold, concrete floor. A snort from above your head caught your attention. He looked down at you from the bed, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Is that any way to greet your handsome prince?”

“Who are you?” you asked weakly, your body still reacting from the fall. You knew it was the wrong thing to say when his smile dropped and his eyes flashed in anger. “Wh-what happened?”

The anger was quickly replaced with relief as he climbed off the bed. Kneeling in front of you, he reached out for your cheek, and though you recoiled, it didn’t deter him.

“You bumped your pretty head,” he said, tracing a finger along your jaw.

“I think I have a concussion.”

“Still?!” he growled. “How? You’ve been sleeping it off for ages!”

Your hands flew to cover your ears as he shouted. “I need a doctor,” you whimpered.

“It’ll pass.” He stood quickly, sitting on the bare mattress you’d fallen from. The frame creaked under his weight, the noise so shrill it send a violent shiver up every nerve in your body. “Come back to bed. You need to rest.”

A lump formed in your throat as he stared expectantly at you. With the thought looming, you eyed the bed and noticed it looked even smaller than you had realized.

“I…” you began, your mind frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “Water,” you blurted. “Need water.” You held your breath, afraid he might grow angry at your request. He didn’t, and promptly sprang to his feet and began walking toward a door you had yet to notice.

Though you knew the clicking you heard when he’d shut it was a lock, you still crawled your way to the door to try it. Collapsing when it failed, you focused on your labored breathing and the pain coursing through your body, willing it to subside enough to make it back to original position before the man’s return. You took a moment to look around, the panic rising inside you when you scanned each wall and saw no other doors or windows. All you found was some hardware you assumed were remains of whatever machinery the room previously held, and a bucket in the corner near the rickety old bed.

A sound on the other side of the wall caught your attention, and you rushed back toward the bed, biting down on your lip to keep you from screaming in agony. He still hadn’t come in when you reached it, but rather than try to get up, you propped yourself against the wall, trying not to look like you’d just run a marathon.

You wiped your forehead in order to dry the sweat, and found your hand had come away with dried blood. For the first time you took notice of your arms, littered with bandages and bruises and already scabbing cuts. You lifted your shirt, and found it was much the same as your arms. There was one bandage that looked like it was soaked with fresh blood, and though it hurt like hell, you managed to peel it off and get a look at the wound. You’d been rather crudely stitched up, and if the fall hadn’t torn them, your journey to the door and back would’ve done it.

When the door opened, you pulled your shirt back down and noted he didn’t lock it again. You scanned his approaching figure wondering where he’d hidden the keys, seeing he was also covered in blood and bruises. He caught your gaze and smirked, making your stomach turn.

Without thinking, you took the offered cup and began to sip in an attempt to buy yourself some time to think of another excuse to send him away. It wasn’t until you’d nearly emptied it that you realized your mistake.

“Is this,”  _drugged,_  you wanted to ask, but you were too weak to fight back if he were to attack you. “Is this tap water? I can’t-” The cup slipped from your fingers, and you muttered a quiet, “Shit.”

He crouched in front of you, and though he was no longer smiling, the crazed look in his eye remained. “Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

You fought it as long as you could, hoping that someone, anyone, would burst through the door just in time to save you. The man before you only watched, waiting for you to drift off. You stared back at him, neither saying another word. Eventually, you forgot what it was you were waiting for, and gave in to the temptation of a nice, long sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As everyone stared at Natasha, at the news she’d just delivered, Bucky stormed out of the room. Wanda flinched as the door slammed behind him, causing the tears that had pooled in her eyes to fall.

“How long do we have to find her before…” Rhodey’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“I don’t know,” Nat admitted. “He didn’t seem to have any self control with his other victims, but there was little to no attachment, either. For some reason, he’s attached to Y/N. We have to believe that will buy us time to find her.”

“You just told us this guy killed his own grandmother. You’re gonna tell me there’s no attachment there?”

“Tony,” Steve warned, but he went ignored.

“No. The reports say she treated him horribly.”

“Oh,” Tony threw his hands up in frustration, “so that makes it ok?!”

“Calm down.”

“ _Calm down?!_  A serial killer has my little girl and you’re telling me to CALM DOWN?!”

“Yes!” Steve shot to his feet. “We need you to help us find her! She needs you! I know you’re worried, we all are, but we don’t have time for any breakdowns or arguments!”

“So where’s your pal now? You didn’t seem too keen on stopping him from bolting.”

“You know he went to continue his search; like we should be doing.”

Tony knew he was right, so he swallowed his pride and turned back toward Natasha. “Ok, who can we talk to? Did this guy have any cellmates while in jail?”

“He did, but he escaped, too, and hasn’t been seen since.”

“We have to get the word out, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “Even if he hasn’t taken her from New York, it’s too big a place for us to find her on our own. We need all the eyes we can get.”

“You’re not coming!”

“But Cap said no arguments!”

“Kid!” Tony pleaded. “He’s already tried to kill you. I can’t be worrying about the both of you.”

“But she’s my friend. I can’t not help.”

“You will be helping.” Steve put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be getting us those eyes you were talking about.” He turned to Tony for approval, but it never came. “Tony?”

Tony felt like he’d swallowed a bag of sand as he stared at your mother’s name flashing from the vibrating phone in his hand. So much had changed since he made the call to send for her, and he was quickly becoming overwhelmed by it all.

With shaking hands, he accepted the call and brought it to his ear. “Honey?”

Everyone could hear the fear in his voice. You’d been missing for nearly 36 hours now, and he still had no idea how he was going to tell her.

* * *

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader learns a bit about the man holding her captive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Force feeding, mentions of vom, unwanted advances, general creepiness. S1 spoiler for GoT.

When you woke, your head felt foggy and your eyelids heavy. When you finally opened them, you saw a man sleeping beside you, and you began to remember what had happened the last time you woke.

You tried to sit up slowly hoping the creaking bed frame wouldn’t wake him, and had to bite down on your fist to keep from crying out at the blinding pain on your side. Making sure he was still asleep, you lifted your shirt and bandage and found the stitches had been redone. Though it was no longer bleeding, the spot was red and swollen, and it was starting to give off an unpleasant odor.

Looking around the large room again, you could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t tell if it was day or night, nor had any idea how long you’ve been there. Eyeing the door, you weighed your chances of getting off the bed and making a run for it before he woke, but the bed was loud and you weren’t even sure you  _could_ run. Plus, you couldn’t take the chance only to find the door might be locked. You turned back to the sleeping man, hoping you could try to find the key and slip it from him, but found him wide awake and staring.

“Hi,” you gasped.

“Hello.” A smile began to creep on his face. “How do you feel?”

Your hand fell from its place on your side. “I need a doctor. I think I’m getting an infection.”

He rolled his eyes and propped himself on an elbow. “You’re just not giving it time to heal. Do you remember yet?”

His annoyance at your insistence for medical attention only confused you as to why he took care to stitch you up in the first place. Still, you had to try to find out whatever you could; stall until you could either get away or be found.

He frowned as you shook your head. “What happened to m-,” you stopped yourself, noting his own bruises, “us? Why are we hurt?”

He sat up, scooting closer to you. If he felt you stiffen when he buried his face into your hair, he didn’t comment. “You didn’t come to me,” he breathed in your ear. “Your daddy tried to tear us apart. I showed him.”

He began to laugh as your blood ran cold. What had he done to Tony? What had he to the others, to-

“Sam,” you whispered. The man gripped your arm hard, turning you roughly to face him. You grimaced at the pain, but kept from screaming.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” you rushed as his face contorted with anger. You watched it turn into rage as you studied his familiar features. Nat’s mocking laughter flashed through your mind, and it clicked into place. “Cletus?”

Like the flip of a light switch, his scowl became a beaming grin. “You remember.”

“It’s coming back to me,” you lied, relieved you were on the right track. “It’s slow going, though.” His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you had to swallow the vomit that raced up your throat. “Bathroom,” you blurted just as he was leaning in. “I need a bathroom.”

He threw himself on his back, laughing away the tension. “You’re shy,” he teased. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but usually a threatening undertone was nonexistent.

He nodded toward the corner where the bucket was, and you couldn’t help scrunching your nose in disgust. “I need to wash. At least I need to try to clean my cuts so they don’t get worse.”

To your horror, he got up to leave. He didn’t ask you to follow, or say a word about an available restroom. He walked out, and you heard him lock the door behind him.

A sob escaped you once you were confident he wouldn’t hear it. You tried to hold your tears back, but it was impossible. Deciding to take advantage of his absence, you climbed off the bed to test your strength. The walk to the bucket was slow, but you were able to stay on your feet until you were halfway back to the bed.

When you heard the door unlock, you wiped at your eyes and tried to free your face of any expression. He entered holding a pack of baby wipes, but your gaze followed the key in his hand as he slipped it into his pocket.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tony stared at the ground, his cheek stinging from the slap your mother landed as soon as she stepped off the plane.

She’d said nothing when he told her what had happened over the phone, and even now she seemed at a loss for words. The ride back to the tower was tense, neither Happy nor Tony dared to even breathe louder than necessary.

At the tower, he led her to the conference room where all your gifts were laid out on the table.

“Where’s Barnes,” she asked, coldness in her voice.

“Honey…”

“All this evidence and he never said a word. To anyone.”

“It’s not his fault.” He chuckled humorlessly at the incredulous look she shot him. “I know I’m not his number one fan, but I looked through all this, we all did, multiple times. Aside from the book, there’s nothing here that points to anything of significance.”

“He still should’ve said something. He felt something was off, and he thought keeping it to himself was the right choice.”

“You’ll have to wait if you want to talk to him. He’s only been back once since she’s been gone, and that’s because Cap dragged him in for a shower and some shut eye.”

“Fine,” she huffed, dropping her things into an empty chair. “Where do we search next?”

“I’m sorry, what?” He saw the determination in her eyes, and knew he had to talk her down. “It’s dangerous, you can’t-”

“Anthony, if you’re about to tell me to stay here and just wait for you, the man who _lost **MY**_  daughter, to find her, then I will grab her and take her home and have this marriage annulled before the police are even finished writing the reports!”

“I tried to protect her!”

“If you’d have been honest with her she might still be here!”

“I know,” he collapsed into the nearest chair, suddenly unable to look his wife in the eye. “I know I messed up. I keep messing everything up.”

“So make it up to me. Make it up to her. Find. Her.” She stormed out of the room, leaving Tony to gather himself while she prepared to take to the streets herself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You pushed the slop around the paper bowl, hoping he wouldn’t notice you weren’t eating it. It was disgusting, but it was also getting harder to refuse food and water. Though you were dehydrated, you were afraid it was laced with something to knock you out or worse. Sometimes he would leave you for a moment and you’d be able to dump what he’d given you in the bucket, and sometimes you’d even been able to get him to share his own once you’ve seen him consume some of it. This time, however, you were hoping to switch your bowl with his, and prayed that it would do something, anything, to disorient him enough for you to get the key and leave.

“Tell me how we met.” He stopped mid bite and glanced at you curiously. “I mean, maybe it’ll help me remember faster.”

He set his bowl down, and you took care to set yours right beside it.

“You were out with your mom, so so annoyed with mommy,” his eyes glazed over as he giggled at the memory, and you took the chance to grab his bowl. “You turned back and smiled at me, and when our eyes connected, our souls connected.” He picked your bowl up, and you smiled as he shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “We knew from just that one look we were meant to be.”

“That’s,”  _horseshit,_  “wonderful.” You ate from the bowl, making his smile grow wider.

“You couldn’t keep away. When I got up, you followed and pretended to bump into me. You couldn’t wait to feeeeeel meeee,” he sang.

You began coughing, choking on the nasty sludge he insisted was food. This was him? The random guy you bumped into on your first few days in the city, the one who you thought looked familiar in the news article about the robbery? And he thought you made heart eyes at him or something?

He shoved your cup of water into your hands, but you tried to refuse it, much to his annoyance. He grabbed your chin and brought the cup to your lips, ordering you to drink. Thankfully, you ended up spilling most of it, and he reached for his own to also force into you. You drank it, and your coughing mostly stopped.

“There,” he smiled. “Feel better?”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Can’t have you dying on me now can I? Not when it’s not on my terms.” He began to laugh like he’d just told the funniest joke, oblivious to look of horror on your face.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Peter hadn’t been able to sleep, and it was starting to show. Ned was exhausted, too, but never complained. They’d put up missing person posters on every shop window they came across before Tony had tasked the job to Happy and told the boys to return to school.

They stood at the entrance, trying to give a flyer to every student who passed. Some ignored them, only pushing past to get to class. Most those who took one, promptly dropped it in the trash without so much as a glance.

Peter was getting angry, his eyes beginning to water in frustration. He noticed Michelle approach, and dried his eyes before offering her one.

She took it, recognizing you immediately. Her body gave an involuntary shiver when she glossed over the suspect’s info.

“Who’s Cletus Kasady?” she asked, getting both boys’ attention.

“He’s that psycho killer who murdered all those people last week.”

Her brow furrowed, and she turned back toward Peter. “He’s the one who took her?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, drying his eyes again.

Behind him, she could see the garbage can filled with flyers and sighed. “Gimme some.” She grabbed half of Peter’s stack and turned toward the approaching students.

One girl scoffed and tried to side step her, but she blocked her path and practically shoved the paper in her face.

“Have you seen either of these people?” she demanded. The girl was taken aback, but took it and scanned it before shaking her head. “If you do see them, or even think you see them, call the number at the bottom. It’s important.”

Peter and Ned watched the girl walk away, her eyes still on the flyer as Michelle forced another one into the face of another student.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You’d pulled the old switcheroo a few times now, and nothing ever happened. You’d watch with bated breath as he ate what was meant for you, but grew discouraged when every minute passed as he kept talking about himself.

The more he told you, the more desperate you became of getting away from him. He’d often lose his train of thought, or expected you to make connections between things that made no sense. When he told you he was the one who had murdered the Carrs, and everyone who was in their establishment, you broke down. He tried to comfort you, and you fought the urge to shove him away, even when he whispered in your ear that it was your fault for not doing as he’d instructed. You didn’t know what he’d meant by that, but it seemed the wrong time to ask since he’d been losing patience with your ‘amnesia’.

When your cries were reduced to sniffles, he tilted your chin towards him and began to lean in. He’d caught you off guard, and you turned away from him before realizing it’d been safer to let him, just for a moment.

He growled and grabbed your throat, pulling you toward him.

“I’m growing tired of this little game of yours,” he hissed in your ear as you clawed at his hands, struggling for air. “There was another before you, you know? She refused me, too. Do you know what happened? I pushed her away from me, and in front of an oncoming bus.” He shoved you away, watching you try to regain your composure. He shoved your takeout box back into your hands, and ordered you to eat.

You took it with shaky hands, digging up a fry from the bottom of the stack and nibbling on it. “It’s good,” you offered gratefully, trying to calm him.

“It’d better be. I risked going to that stupid diner in Brooklyn to get it.”

You paused, still only halfway done with that first fry. He’d avoided telling you anything about where you were, and now he’d just let it slip that you were still in New York. You tried to feel hopeful that you’d be found, though it only made it seem worse that he’d made it clear he had no qualms about killing you if he had to. The thought that you could die so close to freedom was enough to make you despair.

The box was snatched from your hands, and a handful of fries were being rammed onto your lips.

“Eat!” he snarled, using one hand to pry your mouth open.

The harder you fought, the more forceful he became, and he didn’t stop until you’d eaten every last crumb.

You cried yourself to sleep that ‘night’, and not able to take the sound of your weeping, he’d left you alone. It would’ve been a nice reprieve had it not been for your inability to keep much of anything down when you were stressed, making you spend half the night on the floor next to the bucket.

When you awoke, you were back on the bed, though he was nowhere to be found. There was a small table beside the bed now, and on it was a vase with a bouquet of flowers that looked all too familiar. On his side of the bed, there was the usual bowl of goo along with a note.

_**I forgive you** _

It was signed with a ‘CK’ and a heart.

You grabbed the bowl and dumped its contents into the bucket. You began to ‘wash’, using the used wipes to cover the food. You checked your bandage, and cringed at how nasty it was turning.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I’m gonna go out like Drogo if I don’t get out of here.”

But you had no idea how. He wasn’t a deep enough sleeper for you to try to sneak out, and giving him what you thought might be drugged food and drink wasn’t working. You weren’t strong enough to remove the mattress from the frame, let alone one of the metal bars, and nothing in the room seemed to be loose enough for you to yank to use as a weapon.

Unused to having the table there, you bumped into it and luckily caught the vase before it fell. As you lifted it back onto the table, you noticed its weight. The ceramic wasn’t very thick, but it was quite heavy. Heavy enough, you hoped, to give you enough time to get the key and out the door.

* * *

 

  

 

 **A/N:** So, a fair few of you figured out it was Kasady :D I know erotomania isn’t his type of psychosis, but hey, it’s fanfic!


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